The Silent Maiden
by Rosabell
Summary: Inspired by the "silence" of our protagonist. After eviction from the Order, the Exile became mute. Three years later, she meets Atton who had just fled from the war. How would things change if she were unable to talk? Semi-AU LSF Exile/Atton, please R&R!
1. Chapter 1

The Silent Maiden

Chapter 1

She saw him for the first time when she was buying groceries. He was doing his best to stay unnoticed and she could not help but notice this. He did not try to talk to her and she, of course, did not speak to him. They were each alone in the middle of a swarm of customers, most of them anxiously spending because they were not sure how much the currency would be worth come a few months. The Mandalorians have lost the war, due to her contributions, but the fighting had not stopped and last stands were proving as costly as any other battle. She listened to the holonews reporter articulate the progress in a voice forced into calmness. The cashier droid called out in hollow tones for the line to move forward and she paid for her purchases in silence, as always.

* * *

><p>The next time she saw him was two nights later, when she handed a bag of sandwiches she made to a beggar child while keeping her credits close so the boy would not pickpocket her. Without the Force, it had been hard to know when to move and what to do; she had relied on it so thoroughly for most of her life, but in a way it was a bit freeing, to open the rest of her senses and hone them. This was to be who she was, after all, and if there was nothing else she could take from her training, she could at least fall back on the philosophy that there was no use denying what she was. Three years was enough time for her to get use to living without it, and now she could hardly remember what the Force even felt like anymore.<p>

It felt good to be normal, but in a way it was disappointing. She had heard talks, from the soldiers under her command: fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers, husbands, wives, sons, daughters, cousins coming for the holidays, special occasions, birthdays, sentimental gifts and deep friendships, and imagined that this was what normal people had. Perhaps she was not truly normal, but away from the Order she found herself more alone than she had been as a Jedi. At least back then, she had Revan, Malak, Mical, Kavar, and the entire Order had been her family, a place she belonged in, people she admired and respected and understood. Now she was all alone in the entire galaxy, nameless, wordless, with nothing to say and nothing to give except a few sandwiches here, a few credits there, a service or two in exchanged for some living fees, an arm to defend against brutes.

"I don't know what you think you're doing," He said to her, "But it's not going to work."

She looked at him, hoping he would say more, because she could not ask him to elaborate.

"This," He gestured at her empty bag, "You think you're making a difference. You aren't. Galaxy's too big for you, babe." He seemed to be chewing on gum, and as he spoke he emitted a small pop from his mouth. "Far too corrupt for some sweetcheeks like you to fix. You're best off staying at home when it's this late, like a good girl."

She was nineteen years old, but he did not look much older. There was no use calling him out though—she could not even if she wanted to, so instead she opted to ignore him, folding up the now-empty bag between her two hands and discreetly checking her pocket to make sure the ragamuffin did not steal her credits. He let her go without another word.

* * *

><p>The following day she accepted a mission to deliver a package. People liked to give her missions because they knew she could not talk. She had her ways of checking the morality of her quests, though—people always talk more around silent types, and rarely suspect them of sabotage. This was one of them. It was some bomb parts, and she stole a vital component before resealing the package expertly. She left the receiver briskly and disposed of the component in an alley, where she saw him again.<p>

"Huh," He noted, looking noticeably hung-over, "You look familiar."

He honestly looked ghastly in the daylight, unlike his almost menacing figure at night, starved and sick and tired with black around his eyes and bits of vomit in his hair. Any other woman would have fled, because he looked like a manic rapist.

She was not so practical.

He gripped her with sweaty palms to ground himself, and she let him, standing still like an anchor as he recovered his bearings.

"Son of a schutta," He muttered, "Someone chop off my head, _please._"

Back in the days when she still had the Force, she would have used it to soothe him a little, at least enough so that he could get home by himself. She had no such option now. She could not just leave him here though, so she looped one of his arms around her to support him and guided him out of the alley. He groaned when daylight struck his eyes as they cleared a building and headed out into the open. A few people passed by, but no one paid them any attention. Such was the cruel world of a city's ghetto.

"Agh!" He moaned, "Krething sun!"

She tolerated his cursing and swearing in silence as she helped make their way to the hospital. By now, the receptionists were use to seeing her bring in strays, so they looked at him with resigned annoyance and sent her on her way. He had his eyes closed at this point, squeezed shut to block out lights, and did not see her leave.

* * *

><p>That night, she passed by the cantina, distributing more sandwiches and water, and he melted out of the shadows like a wraith.<p>

"Hey," He called.

She looked at him from under her hood. It was raining lightly, and the air felt chilled. She had started sniffling an hour ago but wanted to at least empty the bag before heading back. However she was suffering, she knew the homeless were suffering even more.

"Um," He looked awkwardly at her, "I think you're the one that brought me to the hospital? Nice trick, could have done without the medics, but—ah, that wasn't…really what I called you out for. I'm kind of messing this up; thanks. Is all I'm saying." He stared at her uncomfortably.

She ducked her head in acknowledgment and moved to pass by him, but he suddenly blocked her way.

"Say, you _could_ say 'your welcome' or even 'leave me alone', you know. No need to act like I'm not there." He sounded faintly annoyed.

Like so many times before, she wished she had not lost her voice. She stared helplessly at him and after a moment, gestured a 'your welcome' with her free hand.

He blinked uncomprehendingly for a while. "You're not much of a talker, are you?"

She smiled hesitantly, ducking her head again in contrition, before moving again past him. He moved to block her again.

"You're that Silent Maiden aren't you?" There was an odd gleam in his eyes. She sniffled and guiltily thought to herself that she really did not want to accept any more quests tonight. "They say you can't talk! I didn't know you…were you…" He scratched at his wet hair.

She watched him quietly, wondering if there was anything else he needed from her. A drunkard like him could not possibly have important business, could he? _Of course he could._ She resigned herself to another long night.

"Do you pass out sandwiches every night?" He asked, seeming genuinely curious.

She shifted the bag closer to her.

"Hey, I'm not going to steal from you. Sheesh."

That was not why she shifted the bag, but she let him think what he would, as she allowed so many over the years to think what they would of her. It did not matter anyway. Something about this man was starting to rattle her; his gaze was far too piercing, penetrating. He recognized her, and that was always reason to pack up and leave. She looked away, making plans in her head to move from her shelter tomorrow. It was time to switch neighborhoods, perhaps even cities or planets.

"What do you say I buy you a drink?" He then flashed a smirk that looked far too comfortable on his face to be an accident, "Owe you at least that much for good intentions, anyway."

After this morning, the man still wanted to drink? She took a step back.

"Oh come, don't do that," And he pressed up to her, crowding in her space, "I'm trying to be a nice guy here. You can't monopolize all the good deeds now, can you? That's very ungracious."

Hard words, from a man who looked more like a foolish scoundrel at first glance. She was feeling intimidated now. She had not intended to start any sort of fight, and while she could probably take him, without the Force it was much harder; he was tall and strong and obviously no stranger to force and violence, even if it looked like he had not eaten proper meals for a while. She had not eaten too many proper meals herself, and the rain was making her feel a little unwell. She gave him a pleading glance.

"Just one?" He held up a finger, still smiling cockily, "Promise I won't bite. Unless you want me to. Most women do, once they get to know me." His grin was smarmy. "I think your pals could wait on those," He gestured at her bag.

She found herself looking around despite knowing that it was no use; no one helped anyone else in this ghetto, which was probably why she attracted this man's attention. The man reached out and laid a large hand on her shoulder, almost crushing in its finality. "One drink. Come on. And maybe some pazaak. You know pazaak?"

She twisted from his hand, and his eyes took on a dangerous glint.

"Come on," His voice got a little hard, "Am I not good enough for ya?"

No, but he was scaring her, and she wanted to say so, but the words were locked in her throat, as they had been for the past three years.

"Just a drink," He promised, and the way he said it implied that it was not just a drink. She willed herself not to reach for her blaster. "My treat. You can't refuse free drinks, babe." He rested that large hand on her shoulder again and this time she knew better than to twist away.

They went to the cantina, where the stifling warmth served to somehow make her sniffling worse. There was loud music and the lights were dim, the smell of alcohol thick in the air. He ordered two drinks from the bartender as he guided her to one of the stools.

"Back for more rounds, Rand?" The bartender slammed several shot glasses on his bench. "Who's this pretty lady you've got there?"

She kept her eyes lowered, unable to raise them. Her fingers tightened around the strap of the bag and her heart felt like it was racing. She really did not want a drink.

"My date for tonight," Rand winked at the bartender.

"Haha," The bartender sounded less amused than his enunciation, "Say, maybe you want to get her cloak for her. She looks a bet wet. Haha!" This one was more genuine.

_I just have to survive this,_ She thought to herself, digging into the reserves of patience she had built up over the many years of being unable to articulate her own feelings.

A glass slid over to her.

"Drink up," Rand said to her, swinging his up in the air and downing it in one go. He slammed it to the counter and beckoned at the barkeep for another. "Don't let it go to waste, hon."

His stare was heavy, and she closed reluctant fingers around the glass, sniffling and wishing that her nose were not running because it sounded like she was crying.

"Eh," Said the bartender, as he poured a mix, "Sounds like your date's been out in the rain too long."

"She's hardy," Said Rand, sounding uncaring. He was still watching her, so she took a sip. It was bitter, and she swallowed with a grimace. She hated cantinas.

"You should get her out of that cloak. Hey lady, you wanna take it off? Say, you look familiar. Krething schuttas, Rand! Is that the Silent Maiden?"

The bartender had yelled the last part, and at the name everyone in the cantina turned their heads. The dancers faltered slightly, though they kept with the music, but the patrons were all eying her, their beady eyes scrutinizing.

_Sith._ She should have realized that people were getting to know her when Rand had tossed that name. She should have realized that was a title, should have realized that people were recognizing her. Of course, one lone mute girl, even hooded, handing out sandwiches in a ghetto where no one else cared, how could people not? Some of the faces did look familiar; she had encountered them before, perhaps even sabotaged a few of their plans.

With a jerk, she darted from the stool to head to the entrance, but Rand was faster than she thought he would be, and her breath gushed out in a soundless gasp as she buckled over the arm that suddenly looped around her.

"Hey hey there, sweet thing, no running. You're famous! That's a good thing! Come on! You still haven't finished that drink!"

This was intolerable. She elbowed him in the sternum, and when he only grunted in surprise, yanked her head back to collide with his nose. His arm loosened and she jerked it over her head, then twisted it around, spinning him and pulled it up his back. Before she could dislocate it, she planted her boot on his rear end and kicked. He stumbled forward as she flew toward the doors of the cantina. Patrons were standing up in alarm, but before any of them could react, she was out the door, in the now heavy rain. Thunder boomed overhead and she raced down the sidewalk, past the parked speeders, splashing in the collecting puddles as the doors of the cantina parted open again and voices, incoherent, resonated in the night.

She did not stop running until she arrived at her shelter, an abandoned residence that had no electricity but did have running water. She was drenched by then, dizzy and tired, and she slumped near the wall in the darkness and gasped, choking on silent sobs. For crying out loud, she use to be a Jedi, she use to be a General; when did she become so weak and cowardly?

Why could she no longer talk? It would have solved so many problems. A simple no, a clarification that she did not like cantinas, all of that would help her avoid what happened today. She would have at least finished handing out her sandwiches—which reminded her that she had left them at the cantina, along with her bag. Grabbing her face, she tried to calm herself. _Serenity. Serenity._

She should have died on Malachor V. It did not make sense that she lived and they all died. The Jedi Order should have gotten involved in the war—their duty was to serve the Republic, and they should not have remained as aloof as they did, but _she _should not have gotten involved. Had she known her judgment was so poor, she would not have been so quick to assume the title of General. And now, what had she become, but a poor wretch for those like Rand to pick on? Her tears subsided and she looked into the darkness of the room, shadows flickering as the streetlamps outside fizzed and puffed. All was silent around her except for the patter of rain, the rumble of thunder, the roar of ships overhead and the occasional speeder down the street.

She should change out of her wet clothes, but could not summon the will to. She was so tired. A dark void was in her heart, had been there ever since Malachor V, and it had only grown over the years, until she could no longer even take momentary joy in the light of morning, or the steady rhythm of rainfall. She looked at happy families and could only see that she had deprived so many of the soldiers of the same thing because of her own poor judgment, poor assessment of the situation, bad priorities. A Jedi had to be responsible for many lives and she had taken that responsibility for granted. Really, the black despair in her heart was not nearly equal to the atrocities she had committed all those years.

She hugged her knees and waited listlessly for dawn.

* * *

><p>Morning brought a severe cough. Her throat ached and felt hot and she felt tired and ill. Her clothes were still very damp, and moving inspired chills. She sniffled and blew her nose on some spare toilet paper as she gathered her meager belongings—another bag, some spare clothes, another blaster and a modest collection of credits. She hoped it would be enough to garner her passage somewhere.<p>

The station was moderately crowded. Everyone ignored each other, all business and no smalltalk. Some families gathered together, pulling their children close, though a few younglings ran about with toys in their pudgy hands, and several infants squealed at their mothers. She chose the cheapest moon to go to and paid for her ticket before heading toward the waiting area. She had four hours before boarding, and tucking her bag close, she drew her hood over her eyes and tried to nap.

Her coughing kept her up and kept others away from her, but she did fall asleep; she was aware of herself losing track of time. Her headache woke her, splitting in its intensity, and she looked around for the chrono—two hours had passed. As she turned her head, she sucked in a breath and tried not to cough. Standing in front of her was Rand. He did not appear to notice her, for his back was turned. He was searching the same section of the waiting area, before taking a seat several rows from her.

Was it the will of the Force? She shook herself. She did not believe in the will of the Force, not anymore. If the will of the Force was to allow so many to die, their names barely acknowledged in the aftermath of Malachor V and no one to comfort their families and loved ones, well, she would make do without it. Besides, she was no longer a Jedi—she was deafened to the Force, and thus had no obligation to answer its summons.

The scoundrel did seem to show up a lot recently, however. She considered switching to a later flight, but perhaps the freighter was large enough that he would never notice her? As long as she kept her hood on, he should not recognize her. She pressed back the doubt that formed at this thought. _He recognized me in the rain, in the dark._

She should switch flights.

Standing up proved to be too taxing, however, and she realized with a sickening lurch that she could not get up. Efforts to do so resulted in dizziness, and she crumpled against the seat, swallowing thickly and coughing into the sides of her hood. Her skin felt like it was burning from the inside, yet the outside was cold, almost freezing. Despite her earlier antagonism toward the Force, she wished bitterly for it, if only to relieve the fever and the itching in her throat.

No one came to her—they all avoided her. Everyone was out for themselves these days, and why not? Even the Jedi were out for themselves, and they were supposed to be the ones to serve others most of all. Perhaps it was fair—she had killed so many, caused so much death and destruction; in her hour of need it was fitting that no one should help her.

Deep breaths. Calm yourself. Everything had to do with calm. She made another attempt to stand, and this time succeeded. Her body aligned itself in that instinct to remain upright and steady, and she took a step, two—

Then the world tilted and she lost sense of what was up or down. Pain cracked against the side of her head and she did not even feel herself falling. The floor was cold and felt odd, pressed against her side. It was like it had tilted to meet her body instead of the other way around. How to get up again? She knew the floor was down, but her balance still seemed to spin, and when she braced her hands against the ground, she did not know which direction to push.

"Hey!" Rand's voice broke through the haze of sickness and nausea, "Whoa, sick passenger here!" This time there were murmurs of concern, and hands touched her, pulled at her arms to roll her over to her back. She blinked and saw Rand, his face looking a bit worried. He did not seem surprised to see her.

_"Can't let her board like this,"_ She heard someone murmur. She could not even panic over it, she was so sick.

_"Issue refund? Still two hours before departure…"_

"I got this one," She heard Rand announce, and them promptly felt him gather her into his arms. She resisted at first, but quickly surrendered. What use was fighting?

_"…hospital a few blocks down…"_

"Yeah I know where it is. Can I get a refund here or do I have to go to the front?"

_"…right here. She doesn't look…too, sir?"_

"Yeah I know her."

He lifted one hand from her to accept the returned credits, and tucked them into his breast pocket.

_"…call the EMT?_"

"Too pricey," Said Rand, as he lifted her, "I'll probably get to the emergency room faster if I carry her. She weighs nothing. Pass me those, will you? Think those are hers…Don't worry, babe, we're getting you help, alright?"

She did not answer, because she never answered any question for the past three years, but she found herself opening her mouth and breathing out, trying to speak and feeling no response from her vocal cords. Then the world tilted once more and she shut her eyes.

Maybe she was dying. It sure felt awful, but no less so than the violent deaths of her men. She sank into darkness without fighting.


	2. Chapter 2

The Silent Maiden

Chapter 2

She was beautiful, even if she was sick and malnourished. She had good bone structure—he would know. By far, she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen; all the makings of a princess. She probably could have been one, considering the war had displaced a multitude of people, from slaves to lords, farmers to princes, and it was perfectly possible, given her fair complexion and light, delicate build. A runaway princess of some sort, cast out by the Mandalorian wars and the beginnings of the Jedi feuds, helpless and vulnerable and at his mercy.

_Not really as appealing as a Jedi,_ Jaq whispered in his head. He shook it to dispel the voice. He was no longer that man now.

"Poor girl can't talk," Said the medic, "I've been hoping to take a look and see what is wrong, but she refused to get checked; only brought others in and dropped them off." The healer opened her mouth. "Throat looks fine though. Maybe it's psychological. Post-traumatic stress."

_Uh, yeah,_ He thought. He had seen a lot of those also.

"Her exhaustion worsened the illness," The medic went on, "Fever is caused by the inner-ear infection; she'll be feeling lousy for a while. You did well to bring her in. Your name, sir?"

"Atton Rand."

"And your relation to her?"

"…None whatsoever," He declared this in a proud tone, even though he was not feeling particularly proud. By all logic he should not even have taken her to the hospital. Under normal circumstances, Atton would have boarded that flight away from the planet. He was trying to get off-planet because there were people who wanted to kill him, after all, especially after last night—there were those who were less than happy about him bringing in the Silent Maiden to the cantina, and there were others who were even less thrilled with him 'attacking' her like that. Amazing what a woman could do to a band of thugs. In any case, Atton was good at leaving, and leaving was what he had been planning on doing until _she _showed up in the same waiting area and managed to collapse on them.

He still would have left. Atton Rand was not the altruistic type, and women fainting was none of his business and he preferred it that way. Something about the young woman called to him, though, and he could not resist going to her.

_Honestly, if it were the krething Force again, I swear…_But what could he do? And there were worse women the Force could have linked him to. This one was a hottie, and a nice one to boot, even if she knew how to crack her skull against his nose. It was still sore from last night.

"So you don't know her name?"

"No? You mean you weren't able to get her to tell you?" She had that wave-her-hand thing going on, which was weird, but what, could this woman not write, or something?

"Well, I guess it's a Jane Doe for her," Said the medic.

_Guess not._

She was really quite beautiful, Atton thought, even flushed and ill as she was. He would really like to knock her up. He allowed himself to indulge in these thoughts, because it was better than wanting to knock her down. Permanently. At least she was not a Jedi. It would be harder to restrain such desires if she were a bloody Jedi.

"Well, we'll handle things from here, if you have somewhere to go, sir."

"I don't."

"Oh. Well, you can sit with her then."

"When is she waking up?"

"Well, anytime now. She's being given fluids, so once her body feels like it's ready, she'll be awake soon enough. Have the nurses or interns call me over if you need me." The medic flashed his nametag—Medic Jarr'tasen, before ducking his head and taking his leave to see to the other patients.

Atton took his seat. He really wanted to bang her. Was that normal when a woman is sick and feverish? He certainly never desired sick women before, but this one did strange things to him, despite being flushed and hot. He imagined she'd be hotter on the inside…

_Pop an air bubble into the IV,_ Jaq murmured, _Medics wouldn't even be able to blame you. _He could do it and make it look like it was faulty tubing or something._  
><em>

_The tube is too small._

_Not like them bubbles have to be that big._

_She's not a freaking Jedi,_ Atton thought to himself in annoyance. For crying out loud, she was out in the rain, trying to help people, pathetic as that attempt was, but still much better than those hypocritical Jedi knights who claimed they served society but sat back and watched others die. If anyone did not deserve to die, it was this poor woman, along with others. She seemed little more than a child, caught in a horrible, horrible world.

Plus, she'd be nicer to fork if she was alive and breathing as opposed to a corpse. Even Jaq was not a necrophiliac.

The murderer in him receded at this. He looked at the girl, the shallow rise and fall of her breasts, and tried not to feel disgusted with himself.

_Yeah, I'm a pervert. Old news, man…_

* * *

><p>She woke up alarmed, but too weak to do anything about it. The medic had supposedly given her some drugs to lower the fever, but she still looked horrible. In a way that made Atton want to dig into her, against a wall, or something.<p>

"Hey," He called to her, and then shot out of his chair when she tried to jerk the IV needle out of her arm. "Not happening, babe. You're sick, so you deal with that in your arm. Simple."

Miss Mute was not amused. Dismayed, she shoved weakly at him, opening her mouth as if to speak, but all that came out was a harsh sigh. She shut her jaw when no other sound came out and coughed with her lips closed.

Then she coughed again, and again.

"You need to take better care of yourself, sweet thing," Atton sat back in his chair and kicked his feet up on the bed, boots and all, aligning them over the covers next to where her legs were. "Going out around in the rain—that's not exactly good for your health. You can get sick with things. Like pneumonia. Or the flu. Or whatever the blazes happened with your ear. Seriously, how do you get infections there? But I'll bet going around all wet and drenched doesn't up your chances of _not _catching whatever it is that you got."

She looked at him with shining eyes, before closing them and succumbing to more coughs.

Right. Miss Mute could not talk. Atton liked to hear himself talk as much as the next schutta, but it would be awkward if his listener could not respond at all.

"Well, I guess I'll inform Medic Jar Jar," He swung his legs off the bed, ignoring the stain it left on the sheets, and went up to the nurse's station. Several droids were hovering and doing paperwork. "I'm looking for Medic Jar-what's-it?"

Miss Mute was a much better patient for the medic than Atton ever was in his entire life, but even so she went through it all with a mighty pout that trumped all other pouts. It made her look ten years younger which, given that she was rather young to begin with, was pretty amazing and admittedly endearing. She could not talk, so maybe that pout was really the only way of expressing her displeasure. _Sith_, _wonder what else she could do with that mouth. Could she pout while she's—_

"Do you have a place to stay, sweetie?" A female nurse asked her kindly, "Someplace warm?"

She nodded, though it was clearly a lie; Atton had seen enough of such things to be able to tell the difference.

The young woman looked increasingly distraught as the medic listed things she had to do to recover, though she thanked the medic with a sweet smile. They cleared her to go home and thanked Atton for staying. Did he intend to see her home? Atton looked meaningfully at the mute girl as he affirmed this. Some paperwork followed, prescription drugs, and they were all set.

"Looks like we have our work cut out for us, babe," He said to her, trying not to sound too delighted at the prospect of having this hottie at his mercy. Not that he was sure what his mercy really consisted of these days. As Jaq…but he was no longer that man. What was he now? He was not sure. He did know that he was _not _going to bang her while she was sick though. He might try later on…with her consent, of course. It seemed more right, somehow, thought it was not _right…_Force he wanted to bang her. He really needed to get laid.

He popped a piece of gum in his mouth and chewed thoughtfully as he picked up her belongings. _Nice blaster._ It seemed like she took care of it. Some spare undies, other clothes, all rather clean despite being plain. Conservative taste, this one. He tried not to get excited as his fingers brushed over the panties. _Pathetic, man. _Poor girl had enough problems as it was.

She had a handful of credits besides her refund, and he took those along with the refund credits and waved them at her. "Let's get you your medicine!" He announced in forced cheer.

She looked scared, and did something odd with her hands—was she signing to him? He had no idea what she was trying to say, so he ignored her, placing the bag under her bed before heading to the pharmacy. A rusty droid gave him some trouble because his name was not Jane Doe, but he got a pharmacist to deal with that and returned to find Miss Mute standing unsteadily on her two feet.

Force, he just wanted to throw her over the bed, hold her by the throat as he—

"Ahem," He tossed the drugs onto the bed, "Well, let's get you to your place."

She appeared almost despairing as she gestured again, whatever weird words she was signing, and when he did not react she lowered her eyes in defeat.

"Hey," He popped the gum, "I'm not _that _bad company, sweet thing." He bent over to pull her bag out again and tossed it on the bed. "You want to get changed or do you want to walk out like that?" He could not resist teasing. She was only wearing her underwear under the hospital shift, he knew, and he really wanted to bang her. He wondered how flexible she was.

_She's a good girl,_ Atton told Jaq, _This one's not yours._ Odd enough, that Jaq kept rearing his head all the time when he had not in the past; the young woman was nothing like the Jedi he had seen—they were haughty, pompous, supercilious, arrogant and self-righteous, whereas she was humble and sweet and modest. The Jedi were too far above petty civilians to help them, whereas she was making a habit of handing out sandwiches to the homeless. There was a pretty big gap there, but something about her…maybe the same quiet dignity. She kind of wore it better, though. The Jedi could definitely use more people like her, though frankly, she was probably too good for them. _She's not someone we want to hurt._

Was it crazy that he was referring to himself as 'we'? Maybe. Who cared.

"I'll wait by the door," He told her, so she knew he would not be leering at her. Well, she probably still would not know, but it felt right to say that he would not. He gestured to the bag. "Take out what you need and I'll carry it for you."

She hesitated, still looking despondent, but slowly removed a tunic and a pair of pants. Her boots were by the floor, as were her socks. She took out the blaster and placed it to her side, away from him. Smart girl. She was obviously capable—she did a number on him the previous night, though it was purely because she had taken him by surprise, and he was sort of drunk already.

He swung the bag over his shoulder when she was done and pulled the curtains on his way out so she could have some privacy.

* * *

><p>She knew how to write, which was helpful. She had enough credits left over for a cab, and she wrote the address to the driver when they got into the speeder. When Atton tried to get her to write her name, though, she refused. She was stiff and tense for the entire ride, afraid to look at him, afraid to touch him, so he did all he could to force her to put up with him; sliding his leg against hers as the speeder turned, pushing his shoulder into hers, sometimes laying his hand on her knee. She suffered silently, and he ended up feeling guilty about it all.<p>

It was not a long drive from the hospital, but she was definitely lying about the warm home to stay, because the building they arrived at was a building Atton knew had no heating and only cold water. It was long abandoned and run down. There was mold and pests and frankly it was no wonder she got sick.

"You're not very intelligent are you?" Atton muttered when she got out of the cab after paying the fare and promptly fell over. Must be a bimbo; all pretty looks and no brain. A nice bimbo though. "It's a wonder your lungs aren't full of spores."

She started retching.

"Oh. That's not good."

Ten minutes later, they were sitting on the sidewalk, the girl leaning against him and Atton cradling her. He ran his fingers through her sweat-soaked hair. It was surprising how much the gesture soothed him when he had meant to soothe her. She felt tiny in his arms; Jaq could snap her neck in half with one hand, Atton who did not work out as much and was less in shape could snap her femur with two hands and no brace in between. Really, what was a girl like her doing out here in the Outer Rim? She should be on the core planets, away from the nightmare of the Mandalorians and crazy Jedi.

He pressed her close as she calmed. She was young enough that even as malnourished as she was, she was still soft and warm, her skin tender and smooth. She smelled really good too. She would be great in bed. He could lie on her, crush her into the mattress or whatever they were on.

Atton really needed to get laid.

"Feel better?" He asked after she was quiet for a while.

She sat up slowly, made a motion again with her hands—Atton guessed it was a 'thank you' of some sort, before holding out her hand for her bag.

_Uh, no._ If she thought he was leaving her in this dump, well, he did already establish that she was a bimbo. What was a step lower than a bimbo? "Medic said you were supposed to keep warm. That doesn't really look warm _or _dry to me."

Her face was expressionless, and she did not react.

"Come on," He declared, "I'm taking you to _my _place." The place he had been planning to ditch this morning due to last night's events, which he was not going to reflect too much on—suffice to say that he could probably afford to stay in that place as long as he kept his head low. Which, given his new ward_—And isn't that strange? I have a _ward_…_was probably going to be an easy thing to do, if she proved to be as idiotic as she had been up till now. He held his hand out to her. "Let's go." This time he would pay the fare.

She lingered, appearing uncertain.

"Hey," He softened his voice, a task that was easier to do than he would have thought, "I'm not going to hurt you. Even if you did try to ruin my nose."

She smiled apologetically, a lovely smile that did strange things to him, and made a graceful gesture: 'I'm sorry'.

"Hey, I deserved it," He shrugged, still holding his hand out, "We didn't start off on the right foot." A feeling of _rightness_, of things falling into place, swept over him and filled him with a thrill of anticipation. Something new was starting, beginning right now, and he sensed that unlike the other times when the Force directed him, this thing was not dangerous or bad but _good, _maybe the best thing he had ever experienced in his admittedly pathetic life. "Let's start over. I'm Atton Rand."

She blinked, and after hesitating for several seconds, smiled the most beautiful and heart-wrenching smile he had ever seen. It had all the character of an individual who had suffered much and had been alone for far too long. She gestured something with her hands, too fast for him to catch, but he assumed it was her name in that bizarre sign language of hers, and then placed her tiny hand in his in an accord of friendship.

Atton closed his fingers around hers and inexplicably felt like he had come home.


	3. Chapter 3

The Silent Maiden

Chapter 3

By the time they made it to his place, she was exhausted. She did not even take stock of her surroundings, though in her state, constantly falling over without warning, feeble, nauseated and aching all over, it was really just as well. She wanted to trust this Atton Rand, wanted to believe that he did not mean her harm. If she turned out to be wrong, well, there was nothing he could do that Malachor V had not already done.

He did nothing except take off her cloak for her and guide her to the one bed in the small, shabby flat—not much better than her residence, but at least free of mold and thrumming with soft electricity. There was probably warm water here, she could take a warm shower at last…but for now she was only interested in dropping down and sleeping. It did not even occur to her that she was taking over his bed. She was so tired and sick that her mind had no room for considerate thoughts.

She woke to an odd taste in her mouth, her teeth sensitive due to the earlier retching and bile caking her tongue. She tried to reach out to the Force, but met with nothing. Her vocal cords remained flat and still in her throat as she tried to groan. She curled up miserably for a moment, before opening her eyes.

Atton was stretched out next to her. Not a gentleman, this one, though she could not complain, given that she was not exactly a polite guest. At least there was space between them, and he was resting outside the covers that were blanketing her. She did not remember pulling them over herself; he must have pulled them for her.

Her head hurt, her ear felt odd, and there was that strange taste in her mouth coming from one side. She swallowed and sighed miserably again, wishing she had the Force to soothe herself with. As she shifted to a better position and tried to endure, Atton opened his eyes.

"Hey babe," He whispered, the term sounding more affectionate than derogatory, "How are you feeling?"

Awful, but she summoned a smile for him.

He reached out and felt her forehead. "You're burning up again. Let me get the medicine," And he sat up and moved away.

She might have fallen asleep again, because it seemed like no time passed at all when he was suddenly approaching the bed again.

"Here," He said, holding a glass of water. The liquid tasted foul, but she did not complain. He sat down once she was done, smoothing her hair from her forehead. "Why don't you go back to sleep. You look tired."

That sounded like a good idea. It was certainly easy to follow.

* * *

><p>"So what's your name?"<p>

She gestured uncertainly.

"Yeah that's not going to work." Atton grabbed a stained datapad. "Don't have flimsies, so you can type on this."

She accepted the datapad hesitantly. After a pause, she typed, _'Don't have one.'_

"Don't have one?" Atton raised his eyebrows, before giving a knowing look. "Eh, happens sometime. Well, I have to call you something. Can't keep calling you Miss Mute, or Miss Nameless, can I?"

She settled into the covers. Atton's bed was lumpy and hard, and the blankets smelled unwashed, with hints of vomit (no doubt from past excursions to the cantina) and oily smears, but she was warm and felt strangely safe, however shifty the scoundrel appeared. If he wanted to hurt her, she acknowledged, he could have done it many times already. She plastered a bright smile on her face and shrugged. 'What you want call me?' She gestured.

"Yeah I have no idea what you just said, I'm guessing you're asking me to come up with a name for you though?"

She nodded, still smiling.

"Well the hospital called you Jane Doe. You want that?"

She shrugged again. Anything was better than her real name, a name she had not uttered, had all but forgotten over the past three years of her exile. It had too many memories associated with it, memories of more innocent times, when life had been filled with more laughter than tears and when good people always had good endings. That lifetime had ended in shame and condemnation following the loss of many lives she had been responsible for. She had no wish to pick it up again.

Atton appeared to consider her. "Svana," He said.

_Svana?_ She knew it was named after a type of water bird, usually white, with a long graceful neck, said to be silent until the moment before its death, during which it sings a beautiful song. It was a fitting name, she supposed, and unusually flattering coming from the scoundrel. She did not realize he was the poetic type.

She smiled at him. _Svana._ She could be Svana for him.

His eyes softened when she smiled at him, and he leaned forward. "Where did you come from, Svana? How did a pretty flower like you end up in this dump?"

She frowned a little at the question. 'How you here?' She gestured. He handed her the datapad so she could type it instead.

"Heh. _Quid pro quo _is how it is, eh? Fine. War. Was running away from it. You?"

'Same', She gestured, before typing it.

'Same', He repeated, nodding. "You're a crazy girl, you know that? Wandering around with food around here, when you should really sit tight. Those schuttas you were feeding weren't worth even one grain of the bread you used to make those sandwiches."

She felt her face fall, but could not manage to lift it again. 'They were suffering,' She gestured, knowing he would not understand.

"Yeah, I know," Atton could probably guess what she was saying, "I guess it's true after all, that there are people in this galaxy like you. Sure confused me with those stunts, woman. I thought you people were the stuff of myth, sort of like how Jedi were _supposed _to be the good guys."

Considering how the Order did abandon the Republic and the people they were meant to serve, Svana could not disagree with him. Besides, doing so would delve more into her history, and he had uttered the term with such disgust that she had a feeling it would not go over well.

"You still shouldn't drive yourself to the ground, you know," Atton reproached, "You won't help anyone if you're dead."

Svana lowered her eyes. She really should be dead already. That she is not was hardly fair. The only thing she could do was attempt to justify her survival when others perished.

"How did you lose your voice?" Atton asked. "Medic said your throat looks fine, there isn't any reason you can't talk. Can you try?"

She looked sadly at him. He handed over the datapad and she typed, _'One day couldn't talk. Never spoke since.'_

"Yeah? When was that?"

She signed it this time. He was able to guess.

"Three years? What happened right before?"

She hesitated.

"Sorry," Atton scowled a little, "I know I'm pushing for a lot of information, and we barely know each other."

She smiled a little at him before typing, _'Lost everything.'_

A silence fell after he read that, and she looked away, feeling very tired. Her fever and ear infection was making her head ache, and her throat felt dry and parched.

"Well," Atton broke into her thoughts, "We're two of a kind, then, and you know what they say when there's two of a kind."

She looked at him uncomprehendingly.

"We have to stick together," He said, holding out his hand, "And take care of each other. What do you say?"

Habit made her pause. Three years, she had avoided getting too close to anyone. She was in exile, and the wound in her heart, her very spirit, made any attachment too painful to bear. Every time someone got to know her, began to recognize her, she would remember the faces of the men she had joked and laughed with, had dined with and offered comfort and encouragement, only to send to their deaths. She was a killer, and those close to her either fell to the Dark Side or died, while the rest, those who knew, wanted nothing to do with her. Atton Rand looked like a strong, capable man. He could have been a soldier under her command, could have been one of those she sent to the battle of Malachor V to be slaughtered. She had always kept her distance from people, even as her heart longed for the love and companionship others seemed to enjoy, and three years worth of instinct nearly made her reject his proposition outright.

He had saved her, though, and the least she could do was help him and look after him, even if she had to keep her own side aloof. She reached out and took his hand.

* * *

><p>Atton ended up being a very strict keeper. He would not let her get out of bed, except to use the refresher. He kept to the schedule for her medication, even when she started getting sick of the horrible aftertaste, and he made her eat everything he made even though he was an awful cook ("At least it's edible!") and her stomach could not have held the amounts he forced down her throat even when she had not been sick. He was always around, except when he was buying food, and seemed to relinquish his visits to the cantina in order to take care of her. Svana could not actually bring herself to regret this part, at least, but she did feel that he was spending a lot of credits on her.<p>

She was going to have to work very hard to pay him back.

The Mandalorians were finally winding down, perhaps realizing that even without Revan and the Jedi loyal to him, they will never find victory against the Republic. The holonews became more optimistic as the violence dramatically decreased.

"About krething time," Atton opined, "Bastards should have cut their losses earlier, instead of dragging all of us through all this."

Recovery took a long time, though eventually she regained some of her strength. She was tempted to bolt, but felt obliged to adhere to the promise to at least pay Atton back for his generosity during her illness. She was not sure why he was helping her at all; he did not seem to be the honest type, and there was a peculiar light in his eyes, the way he was never quite able to look straight at her, that made him look shifty. Oddly, she felt safe with him, safer than she had been for a while, perhaps her entire life. It was enough to unnerve her and make her uncomfortable, but she remained, compelled, almost, even when he left her in his home alone while he completed his errands, though many times she stood in front of the door, willing herself to leave. Once, she had her bag packed and was holding her palm to the sensor when the door opened and Atton was staring right at her. He had stared calmly at her, unblinking, until, embarrassed, she had stepped back and lowered her eyes. He wordlessly took her bag from her, and that was that.

One evening he came back bloodied and bruised. Panicking, Svana fussed over him despite his protests, unable to express her worry otherwise. How did he get hurt? _Why _did he get hurt? At least none of them looked like blaster wounds…

"I'm fine, crazy woman," He grabbed her wrists with some annoyance. "Had a close call with some thugs, but I'm fine!"

She knew he grinned lewdly when she made him take off his shirt to apply bacta to the cuts. He had a fine figure, one reminiscent of the young male human Jedi Svana had seen in her youth. He was mainly bruised, though she felt his abdomen for internal injuries. Without the Force, her senses were muddled, but she had learned over the past three years that even non-Force-sensitives had tricks they used for on-the-field medical care.

After concluding that he was largely fine, she stepped back and signed, 'What happened?'

Atton, at least, understood these gestures. "Close call with some thugs, as I said. These guys were after me because of pazaak." He smirked at her. "Sore losers, those, but wimpy fighters too. Only reason I'm a bit roughed up is because they all jumped me at once, but even _then _they're pathetic." He reached out to stroke her cheek with his thumb. "Don't you worry about me, babe. Atton Rand can handle himself."

A day later, Atton started packing. Like Svana, he did not really have too many belongings.

"We weren't really supposed to be here," He told her, "Didn't pay rent. Good thing the landlord is the forgetful type, and I knew how to bluff, but we'd be pushing our luck if we stayed. You were planning to leave planet anyway, right?"

She was out of credits though.

"Pure pazaak," He said to her, holding up what looked like a bag full of credits, "You play, darling?"

She stared a little blankly. Jedi did not gamble, and after leaving the order, she had continued to steer clear of such things.

"Oh you're like, a little lamb," His eyes took on a dark light, "This will _definitely _be interesting."

She did not feel threatened, though, and stayed beside him even when he was forward and wrapped an arm possessively around her waist once he was done.

* * *

><p>As a Jedi, a General, and then an exile, Svana had been use to leading, or at least making the decisions. Being with Atton was a series of agonizing adjustments. She could not speak and he could not understand her easily, so for the most part she followed him even when she disagreed with his choices. They boarded on a flight headed for Bandomeer, a planet that was sparsely populated with sentients and spared from much of the wars that plagued the rest of the galaxy. If it had been up to her, she would have headed for places like Nar Shaddaa, where she could do some good, but she went along with Atton because she had a feeling Bandomeer was not really Atton's home front either.<p>

They boarded the shuttle with other miserable passengers. Atton held her hand securely in his, as if afraid she would get lost somehow. She was still feeling a bit weak, but no one even bumped into her, and they took their seats near the back where the refreshers and the thrusters were.

"You alright?" Atton asked her, as if she would suddenly _not _be alright during that brief period between waiting in the waiting area and boarding. She nodded at him, puzzled.

They sat silently as the other passengers took their seats. Svana felt tired and somehow found herself leaning against Atton's shoulder as she dozed. Atton made for a steady support, and when she next woke, they were already an hour into hyperspace. He was asleep at the time, snoring a little, so she remained quiet.

They made it to Bandomeer without talking much. She stood on legs that felt rubbery and numb, looking out over the stretch of sky. It was a lovely planet, rich with greenery. She imagined that if she could still feel the Force, the world must feel incredible.

"Great place eh?" Atton noted her expression. "The air feels kind of soothing. More open, fresh. I don't know. Can't quite describe it." He took her by the elbow. "Come on, we better leave the docks."

He took her by the hand again, something that annoyed Svana a little. She was not a helpless child, and she had been taking care of herself for three years. There was no need to lead her around by the hand. He would not let go, however, even when she tugged lightly, and signing to him would be fruitless. She released a sigh.

"Bear with me, sweetheart," Atton said to her without looking her way. Despite giving her a name, he actually rarely used it. "I've never been to this planet before."

_Then why are we here?_

"Figured it'd be nicer here than, say, Nar Shaddaa, though," He glanced at her then, "I get the feeling you'd prefer the smuggler's moon; you're all about handing out sandwiches to bums, but I'm kind of sick of the ghetto myself."

She bristled a little at his tone.

He smirked. "Hey, that's why you need me around, babe. Someone's got to keep you in line." There was something soft about his eyes, and Svana quickly looked away, feeling her cheeks grow hot. He chuckled and squeezed her hand.

'Where we go?' She signed to him.

He took a moment to interpret that. "I don't know. We'll figure it out as we go, right?" He chuckled, "We'll be alright."

They ended up wandering around the town near the docks. The locals, short near-human Meerians with pale hair and pupil-less eyes, looked at the tall humans with mild curiosity. The sun shone warmly down from its perch above them, and around them was grass and green foliage, comforting to the eyes.

A strange peace settled over her. It was not the kind granted by the Force, exactly, but the part of her that ran, that wept blood and wandered and chased after shadows—it seemed to calm for the first time in years. Somehow, with Atton by her side, she felt like she had arrived at a resting place. There was something distinctly not right about him, and she knew that in any other circumstance she would have avoided someone like him, but for some reason part of her called to him, the way he was there when she needed her and never pushed her aside. Perhaps he needed her as much as she had needed someone? For the first time since that awful loss on Malachor, Svana wondered if there had been a good reason she was alive after all, and that reason was Atton Rand.

Maybe instead of punishing herself for surviving, she should make use of this second life granted to her.

She reached out and hugged his arm. Atton gave her a slightly bemused look, but stroked her hair affectionately.

"Glad you're here too, sweetheart," He winked, "It's nice having a companion, yeah?"

Svana smiled back at him. It was indeed.


	4. Chapter 4

The Silent Maiden

Chapter 4

Falling in love was like…falling. It took no effort at all, and Atton could not stop himself. He barely even knew Svana, hardly even understood her most of the time, but there she was and there he was and he was in over his heels before he was even aware of it beginning in the first place.

It was not just wanting to do her—there was that of course. Since her recovery she had only grown more beautiful, her cheeks filling out so that she looked like a sweet doll. They had slept on the same bed for a while and each time they did Atton was very aware of the warmth of her soft body, a fair contrast to his hard lines and muscle. Her hands were small in his, and everything about her was graceful and delicate and very womanly. It was hard to imagine that she nearly broke his nose at all—she was like a little princess.

Every scoundrel wanted to knock up a princess. The higher up, the better. He definitely wanted to do her, but the desire had been tempered the longer he spent time with her. For a while, she was literally a beautiful decoration to his shabby home on the planet they were both trying to leave, but then more time passed and she became a reason for him to do things, like buy sweets despite the expense, pick up a cooking manual (after she made that face toward his soup), stop getting dead-drunk in the cantina every night and look forward instead to coming home to a young woman with a sweet smile and sad eyes. He even chose Bandomeer, a planet he would never have considered before Svana came along because did they even have proper cantinas there? But he heard Bandomeer was a beautiful planet and Svana was a beautiful girl and his pazaak earnings could cover the tickets so why not?

It was stupid, because he hardly even knew her.

He did know she had nightmares, every night. Not the scary kind, the heartwrenching kind. She would sob silently and he would reach over and hold her for a moment and she would be alright again. Something had hurt her in the past—he knew as much, given her vocal condition, but it was a keen wound that he found himself more eager to relieve than he would have predicted.

He did not realize Atton Rand could fall in love so easily. He probably should have, given the last Jedi…but with her, it had been a different kind of love, a love tainted by hatred and rage at how she had changed him without his consent. With Svana, he felt serene, whole in a way he had never been in his life. Content. He told himself for a while that it was just that she was practical to have by his side. There were people looking for Jaq, out for Jaq's head, and they would never expect him to be leading a girl around. People like him did not form relationships like that. The truth was, though, as the days passed, when he was with Svana, he barely even thought about his old life, or Revan, or the Jedi and how they were fighting amongst themselves, away from the eye of the public that was more interested in the dying Mandalorians.

He barely even knew this woman, but already he could not live without her.

* * *

><p>They found a small flat in a little town. The ceiling was just high enough to accommodate Atton's height.<p>

"You'll be getting a job here, sir?" Asked the Meerian landlord. "Being tall would be good for ya; lots of companies looking for tall strong men. You humans don't come to this planet too often."

"Our loss," Atton said suavely.

Svana kept silent.

"Your wife's not much of a talker, is she?"

She looked stricken at this. Atton quickly covered for her. "That obvious eh? Aren't wearing rings."

"I know a couple when I see one. Don't look so embarrassed, young lady. It's frankly nice to see couples around. Those Mandalorian wars, and now apparently the Jedi are kicking up another fuss. Makes me really glad I'm on this planet in the middle of nowhere as opposed to the center of things. You got yourself a shy one, sir."

"Heh," Atton looped an arm around Svana's waist, "She's a jewel. So, contract?"

He signed a one-year lease without batting an eyelash. Presumptuous of him, really, given that he rarely stayed more than three months in one place. With Svana, though, he had a feeling he would be in no hurry to move around. Svana watched him with a wary look, but if she had any complaints, she could not properly express them anyway.

The landlord pocketed the first month's rent, and Atton's pazaak earnings was a chunk smaller. The apartment was unfurnished, so they were going to have to get furniture.

"So," Atton gestured, "Not exactly a palace, but considering where you were haunting before, at least we've got basic needs down."

Svana looked like a fish out of water, or perhaps a lost fawn in the woods, looking around her as if unable to make sense of her surroundings and wary of any predator that might spring out from the walls. Atton took her pack and she let him, though she did not move from her spot in the middle of the room. The landlord was right; she was a shy one. He knew he was overwhelming her, and found himself enjoying it.

"Don't look so scared, sweetheart," He was rewarded with a surprisingly indignant expression. It was very endearing. "Come on, let's go get furniture! Women are supposed to be big on interior decorating."

* * *

><p>Furniture shopping was hilarious, because Meerians were all a meter tall so everything was ridiculously small. Atton found himself wishing that he had not been quite so impulsive about picking Bandomeer. This sort of thing would not happen on planets that were frequented by humans. On the other hand, such planets were less ideal for someone like Atton Rand.<p>

They made purchases, ordering modifications done, but would have to make do without furniture for the night.

"Sorry, babe," Atton said as they made their way through playground as evening fell, "I'm not treating you well enough."

Svana gave him an incredulous look. He just smirked at her. Force, he wanted to do her. And marry her, come to think of it; he never imagined the idea of binding himself to a person like that would seem so right, but once the landlord mentioned it, why not? There was always divorce if something went wrong, and marriage would solve more problems than create, come to think of it. He could do that part first, if she really wanted to. Then bang her. Give her the time of her life. She seemed like a virgin.

_You're getting _wayyyyyyyyyyyyy _ahead of yourself there, Rand._

He was not even sure how she felt. As far as he could tell, she was a bit scared of him sometimes. Atton knew he had an intimidating aura about him; it worked well to ward away blighters who would otherwise have tried to jump him. Still, after that one time he found her trying to leave, she had stuck around. Maybe she was warming up to him?

He was so in over his head.

Svana did not say anything, even with her hands, as they made their way to one of the benches. She sat down, curled her legs, and all of the sudden, despite not wearing the robes, she looked very much like a Jedi Knight. Atton felt his throat freeze at the sight.

_Calm down. She's not a Jedi. You would have sensed it._ In terms of Force presence, she was almost like a void. Probably because of whatever hurt she had endured during the war, but a void was quite opposite of a Force-sensitive, no matter its cause.

He sat down next to her. She slouched forward, and the effect was gone. Now she just looked like she was getting comfortable. She stared out across the playground, at the empty swings, and Atton followed her gaze. It was getting dark, and while there were a few children with parents about, they passed through quickly and the two of them were largely alone.

_What are you thinking about, Little Swan?_ Was she reminiscing the old days of childhood when she use to play in playgrounds just like this one? When she no doubt had a roof over her head and a warm bed at night?

_Lost everything,_ she had said.

Sad stories like hers were unfortunately commonplace; entire families had been slaughtered by the Mandalorians in their zeal of bloodlust. Sometimes the military would come across cities and the entire place would have been bombed to smithereens. There were no corpses—those were so primitive—the bodies incinerate upon impact of the weapon's blast, leaving only distorted prosthetic implants, if they were made of metal. If there were any survivors of such an attack, they often died hours upon discovery, poisoned by radiation or expiring due to other injuries. He imagined Svana coming home to such destruction and unbidden, his arm looped around her shoulders.

Svana turned her head to look straight at him with those wounded eyes, making pulling her close feel a bit awkward, so Atton just stared back.

"Hey," He said more seriously, "We're going to be alright."

She nodded, and suddenly looked exhausted. Force, he was an idiot, dragging her around all day the way he did. She was still recovering, and of course Miss Mute would not complain when she was tired. For crying out loud, she was out in the rain giving out sandwiches. This girl had no sense of self-preservation.

Granted, it was a bit hard to speak up when she could not speak.

"I am going to learn your bizarre sign language thing," He said, more to himself than to her, "Want to head back to the flat? I know there's nothing there yet, but," He could not resist this, "You can sleep on me, babe. You're very welcome to it."

She blinked at him. She did not get it.

_Virgin bimbo,_ Atton thought, half amused and half frustrated. Force, was the mighty sexual prowess of Atton Rand to be lost on this little lamb? What a waste. He was going to have to educate her the first chance he got.

"Come on, sleepyhead, let's get you into a roof over our heads."

Svana stood obediently, though weariness permeated her limbs.

"Want me to carry you?" Atton teased. "I've done it before, you know."

Svana threw him a forbidding scowl and tugged at her sleeves. Right, Atton thought in amusement, this bimbo had survived for a while on her own, was apparently pretty good with the blaster too, if the rumors of the Silent Maiden had been anything to go by. There had to be a way for her to _stay _a virgin, after all, given the seedy people she immersed herself in. Shy and sweet she might be, but the girl was no pushover.

This time he merely held out his arm for her, like a gentleman. Svana took it with another scowl, just to let him know that she was choosing to do this out of the goodness of her heart and not because she was about to fall asleep where she stood. Atton suppressed a chuckle. Force, he wanted to knock her up _right now…_

Not now though. Svana was tired, and he wanted her first time to be fantastic. She was already in luck, given that her first time will be with Atton Rand, but he wanted her to enjoy every bit of it and it would not do for the experience to be tainted by fatigue.

_You're turning into a woman, Rand._

_Shut up, Jaq. I'm you._

He seriously needed to get laid as soon as possible.

* * *

><p>They slept for a few nights on the floor. Svana did not curl up against him, just to show that she could reject him. It would have stung, except she still had nightmares, and the for the first time Atton heard her voice, scratchy and dry from disuse, low and rough from pain. <em>No<em>, she had sobbed, _No, I'm sorry, no. _He had gone over to her and she calmed instantly at his touch, though tears still leaked from behind her eyelids. Her body knew him at this point, even if her mind did not.

Atton could work with that.

_Baby steps._

By the end of the week, at least they had furniture, though the place still looked bare and sad.

"You want to work your womanly magic yet?" Atton asked, curious what his little swan could come up with. Women had that interior decoration gene, right? "Because this is definitely not my department."

He left her to her own devices as he sought work. The landlord was not kidding when he said that Meerians liked tall folk. He was hired on the spot as a cargo loader, and there were plenty of loads to load. The first evening he returned home, Svana had done nothing; apparently she had sat in the living room and stared into space for the whole day. Her face looked slightly haunted, though, so any irritation Atton might have felt did not last long.

"Hey," He took her hands as he knelt in front of her, "Everything's alright."

She looked up at him, eyes unfocused, as if disoriented. He waited for her to collect her bearings. Did she get frightened because he had been gone all day? It might be presumptuous of him, but he knew that there were times in the past year when he felt like his world had jolted upside down; it was so different from his life before as a Sith assassin or as a republic soldier. It could help to have someone to anchor to.

She loosened her hands from his. 'Atton?'

"Hey honey, I'm home." Force, he never thought he would ever say that without sarcasm. What was this woman doing to him? He needed to get laid, fast.

She smiled suddenly, a watery smile with tears gushing out of her eyes. Before Atton could do anything or ask what was wrong, she leaned her forehead against his and _hm, that's kind of nice._ All of the sudden she took up his whole world and it was just her and her faint smell of clean, warm girl. She did not embrace him, but that was fine, because this seemed intimate enough by itself.

Falling in love was like falling; no effort at all, no way to stop, and he was in over his head before he even felt his descent and it was truly the most wonderful kind of fall Atton ever had in his life.

* * *

><p>Miss Mute started interior decorating the next day. She also started groceries, and cooking. It was sort of like watching someone on steroids; Atton woke up to the sound of her making breakfast and when did she get all the stuff? How come he never realized she left? Then he went to work, still baffled because of course Svana couldn't tell him without writing long lines down on a datapad and they mutually agreed this detail was not really important enough for her to spend time typing down an answer and then letting him read it. When he came home late that afternoon, odd knick-knacks showed up in their apartment, and there was a sewing machine, a bunch of fabric with one piece halfway worked on in the machine, and Svana was cooking in the kitchen and she was a much better cook than Atton was, even with his cooking manual. She ate with him and finished her meal in five minutes, and before Atton could call her out for not eating enough she was back at the sewing machine, apparently making bedcovers by herself because Meerians had no reason to make giant bedspreads that were human-sized.<p>

"How did you carry all of this home?" Atton asked in bewilderment.

At first Svana gestured something he did not understand, but when she saw that he was not receiving the answer, she simply gestured 'No'.

"No, you did not carry all of this home?"

She just smiled at him.

Figured. Everyone liked a pretty girl. "You saucy minx!" He pinched her cheek. "Well, at least you didn't tire yourself out."

Not with heavy loads, anyway. She finished a cover for the bed (One bed, because Atton was not actually a gentleman and Svana could not complain without making a scene. Hey, he was not having sex with her; he had to have _something _out of this relationship, at least, even if it was just lying next to her and trying not to get too excited at her proximity) and started working on a second one when Atton dragged her away from the machine. She obviously worked hard that day, because after showering and brushing her teeth, she simply collapsed on the bed, and did not rouse even when Atton dared to collect her into his arms.

He had it _so _bad. He was going to get this girl to marry him no matter what. It was absurd, because he hardly even knew her. Was this what they meant when they said love was blind? And since when was Atton Rand the marrying type again? He always figured if he were to like any girl it would be one of those strong-spirited twi'leks, women who were sharp-witted and deadly and dark and absolutely delicious—not this soft-spoken-to-the-extreme, dainty princess. Princesses were for banging, not anything more permanent. And Atton Rand was supposed to be a playboy, a heartbreaker. Definitely not good husband-material—he had not even wanted to be a husband before meeting his little swan. He was losing his head.

_Whatever._

* * *

><p>It was the third day of this sudden rapid-paced decorating that Atton noticed a rather disturbing pattern—or rather, Jaq did. Everything was white, brown, grey, cream…mostly brown though. It made the apartment feel like a Jedi temple quarter.<p>

_You're really obsessed with linking her to the Jedi somehow, aren't you?_

"You know," He was discomfited enough to say to her, "You _do _have permission to choose other colors, you know. I'll even sleep on a flower-patterned bed, if that's what you like, but this is so very Jedi-monk-like, which I can do without. You do realize they're assholes, right?"

She looked terribly startled, as if he had struck her.

"Of course," He amended, "If you like these colors, that's not a real problem." As far as recoveries went, it was very lame, but he already dug a hole for himself, so he shut up before he could dig even deeper.

The next day Svana bought butterfly curtains. They were surprisingly elegant, rather than dowdy, very feminine and pretty and instantly dispelled much of the Jedi-like atmosphere.

"Nice," He said to her, and noted that she looked kind of drab standing next to the embroidered curtains. It occurred to him that he had been a bit trusting when he gave her the go-ahead to buy things, but Svana was considerate enough not to buy anything for herself with his money. Would she go on a shopping binge if he allowed her to shop for jewelry and what-not? He heard women do that. His own mother use to when she was alive, if he remembered correctly.

He was so in over his head.

"Do you need more clothes? You haven't shopped for any, have you?"

She signed something to him, he caught the word 'small', and when he did not react the way she wanted him to, she pointed at the sewing machine.

Sewing machine? Make her own? Why make—oh.

_You're an idiot._

"Right." Atton felt stupid. He really should have chosen a planet that was not populated by midgets. "Heh…"

The additions to the apartment slowed drastically over the next few days, but by then the flat looked really decent and…homey. There was definitely a woman's touch to the place, and he liked it far more than he ever thought was possible. Maybe he had grown out of that playboy, heartbreaker phase, because he was really enjoying the domesticity of Bandomeer, the skills of his not-wife that he was not having sex with, and for crying out loud, he really should have done her a _long _time ago, but for some reason he was not in a hurry despite being excited nearly all the time—what was up with that? And this hottie seemed to have _no _libido at all. Atton liked to think he was a fine specimen, but even after exposing his toned chest, she seemed completely unaffected.

Woe was he; the prowess of Atton Rand was apparently to be wasted on this woman. Love sucked. It was making him…well, _boring_, and he was not even sane enough to be annoyed with this.

But perhaps it was for the best. He was trying to get away from his life as Jaq, and this…this was as good as it got, in so many ways.

* * *

><p>One day he came home to find it empty.<p>

Svana's blaster was gone, as was her bag. Atton felt a freezing chill wash down his spine. At first he was angry—what, was he not good enough for her? Not good enough for her to at least say goodbye to? And then came the overwhelming pain—of _course _he was not good enough. He was a murderer, and maybe she realized this, somehow, and who would hang around to say goodbye to a killer? It was always a bit too good to be true; the Silent Maiden had tried to leave before. He put a stop to it, and she had stayed afterwards, but that did not mean she did not want to leave all this time. Maybe she had stayed long enough to set up his home for him. Atton had a feeling her mind worked like that, but frankly he would trade everything in the apartment, butterfly curtains and flower bedcovers and knick-knacks adorning the walls, if it meant she could be here.

Opening the drawers revealed her spare clothes though, even the ones she had been wearing before she made herself new dresses, and Atton fought furiously against the intense mix of hope and despair rising in his chest to think. Svana liked to go around handing out sandwiches, right? She was probably doing something like that again. She was hardly a prisoner here, she could leave the apartment if she wanted, and maybe she was late because she was held up at a store, or something. Some errand, perhaps. She might come back. He was overreacting.

Hours passed, Atton cooked his own dinner, but Svana did not come home. The sun set and the sky darkened and after about an hour he finally took his coat and the keycard that would let him back in. If Svana was still out, it was late and he needed to find her; even on Bandomeer, there was such a thing as Meerian bandits, and Svana could be in trouble. What if she was out there, hurt? He had been sitting in their apartment all this time! He was so stupid!

Just as he palmed open the door, though, Svana was standing in the hallway, about to use her key. She looked at him, smiled brightly, and held up a bag of…credits.

"Force, woman," He breathed, realizing in a flash that she had been doing what she did as the Silent Maiden, "I don't krething care about those! Do you have any idea how worried about you I was?"

Her expression faltered, but he did not let this stop him from lunging forward and grabbing her for a kiss that, given how he had suffered just prior, had better melt her brain to goo.


	5. Chapter 5

The Silent Maiden

Chapter 5

He yelled at her, after that knee-weakening kiss, for about an hour, scolding her for not at least leaving a note telling him where she went, and did she have any idea what time it was? Between the reprimands was mostly ranting. She had scared Atton badly, and after blowing off steam and taking a shower that did nothing to calm his temper, he reached over that night and hugged her to him without even a "by your leave". Resistance was out of question, at least unless she actually wanted to hurt his feelings, but even with her heart thundering with adrenaline like it did when she was a padawan and angered her instructor or master, there was that warm feeling that refused to go away. Someone had missed her, someone had worried about her, had cared enough to yell at her about scaring him. She never had anyone like that before.

It had seemed like a good surprise at the time, and she had never had anyone waiting for her at home to know what to do to prevent a scare. Some local farmers were dealing with predators preying on their livestock, and she accepted the offer of credits to deal with them, figuring it was a good way to pay Atton back for how good he had been to her. She had killed one of the predators she had tracked, but the rest she had managed to divert to other territories, and that was what took up so much time. It had seemed worth it—Atton had been providing all of their funds up till now, and Svana wanted to contribute. This was one of the ways she had supported herself before, and was more in tune to her desire to remain secluded and anonymous. She had imagined Atton would be pleasantly surprised.

He sort of was, the next day.

"How did you get this many credits?" He asked, "Did you win a pazaak game or something?"

Svana was making him a hearty breakfast and did not answer because her hands were full. He waited until she finished scrambling the eggs before handing her a datapad. His expression blackened as he read.

"You went hunting wild animals all by _yourself_? What if something happened to you? How on earth did you survive for as long as you did?"

'Sorry', She gestured, and tugged a little on his sleeves, the way a child would to a parent. She did not want to get him worked up again. _I wish I had my voice._

"Fine," Atton huffed at this, still looking displeased, "But several ground rules first: you let me know when you head out on these things and don't you go gallivanting off until I approve."

Svana scowled at this. 'You no my keeper', She signed. He did not know all the words, but he could guess.

"Well it's about time someone took care of you!"

This was absurd. Just because he took care of her when she was sick once did not mean he could control her like…like a slave.

'No,', Svana gestured simply, with a frown.

"No?" Atton scowled and all of the sudden Svana was reminded of how she was once afraid of him. He looked terrifying. "Don't you argue on this point with me, babe. This is for your own good."

'No.' Svana turned around.

* * *

><p>He was on her case all through breakfast. Svana agreed to not leave the apartment at least for that day, or else Atton would have missed work. Of course, that did not mean she was actually going to follow through that promise to the letter. After fuming to herself for about an hour after he left, Svana picked up some of her things and prepared to head out. She left a note in case she ended up staying out late again, since that was a rather sensible thing to do and despite her frustration, the warmth that came from having someone worry about her was too much to simply dismiss.<p>

She headed out to the open world where the Meerians waved at her in greeting. She waved back, smiling at them. Perhaps Bandomeer was not a bad place to retreat to, at least for a while. She had not realized how much she had forgotten that there were still beautiful places in the world, and kind people who were not cruel to others. Still, her comrades in war will never partake in these pleasures again, and it was all because of her.

She will remain, for a while, but she really did not belong here. She should have died on Malachor, and she must seek her grave in the dark outskirts of the galaxy. Worlds like Bandomeer had no place for her.

The Meerians called her over for some tasks because of her tall height and long legs, mostly delivering messages or carrying light packages; ironically, despite their small size, the short people were actually stronger than she was, even the women. Had she still been sensitive to the Force this would not have mattered, but she was cut off by the council and so had to make do with what she had. She walked faster, however, and in return for her services, sometimes they gave her credits, other times they gave her gifts, like a basket of bread, fresh produce, fruits and pastries, which she would bring home to share with Atton. Today she returned to the apartment to lay out cake and rolls.

About half an hour later, Atton came home from work.

"We still need to talk," He glared at her as he dug in to the food she brought without asking where they came from. He probably thought she bought them. "Don't think you're off the hook."

'You do most of talk,' Svana signed, but he did not see.

He did do most of the talking, and Svana was stuck listening to him rant. Her responses were short by necessity, but quite effective. 'No,' she signed. He was not her keeper, and whatever the Meerians thought, he was not her husband. He had no right to control what she did, or have any say in the decisions she made if it did not affect him. After listening to him act ridiculous for a while, Svana simply ignored him and retreated to the bedroom, shutting the door on him.

Dealing with people did not use to be this hard. Then again, the positions were always clearer than they were these days. Svana was a Jedi, so she was an initiate, a padawan, a knight. She was a General, and answered only to Revan and Malak in public and was their equal in private. People use to respect her, at least, for they knew she was capable—expected her to be capable, even. She had not been protected since she was a youngling.

_Though…_her comrades had protected her, in a way. They turned her away from conversations that became too dirty for the ears of young maidens, curbed their language when she was around and always gave her the best places to rest when they had to make camp. Sometimes when she was up late planning, a foot soldier would bring her a late night snack that a chef got up to cook for her. Usually it was Jerich—she knew the names of all of the men under her command. Jerich was the oldest of three brothers and two sisters, so he knew how to take care of a fourteen-year-old girl who knew textbook strategies but did not know about life.

Svana wiped at her face when tears fell. They were all gone now, Jerich the foot soldier, Byzgat who was always hungry and complained that the chefs never give him enough to eat, the twins Phardot and Phingon—Phardot was always making lewd comments about her physique and how she was so slender her armor looked like clothes so she must be slimmer in _other places_, and Phingon was always trying to rein his brother in, dozens and dozens of names and faces that are lost now, bodies rotting on Malachor V, if the planet even had anything left to feed on the corpses.

Fourteen, sixteen years old. What did she know about war? Why did all of the men trust her in the first place? There were some who were as young as she was, fifteen, sixteen, but many were older, and any one of them knew more about life than this sheltered teenage girl from the Jedi Enclave.

Warm arms wrapped around her, and Atton's cheek, a bit prickly as his beard was growing in again, pressed against hers. The door was unlocked; she had merely closed it, so he had walked right in to find her in this state. Her face grew hot.

"Hey," He said quietly, "I'm sorry about yelling at you all the time."

She smiled bitterly. Atton had no power to make her this upset. 'No you,' She gestured, knowing he would understand. He hummed at this, but only tightened his embrace.

"What is it, then?" He asked, rocking her a little as she stood. It occurred to Svana that he was behaving like a husband even if at the time it seemed like a joke, or a minor lie meant to ease their adjustment to the planet. "Want to talk about it? I know I haven't given you a chance to speak your mind. I'll shut up and let you have your say."

She sighed a silent laugh and kissed his prickly cheek. However Atton annoyed her, he was still sweet sometimes. She did not take him up on the offer though. Speaking of the pain required too much energy to summon the will to execute. Far easier to simply let the grief simmer where it was.

Besides, she hardly even knew this man.

* * *

><p>The next time she was sent to trek in the wilds, she took Atton with her. It was a good three weeks after the first, and Atton had proven himself to employers so he could take a day off. They went in companionable silence, since hunting wild creatures was not quite like bounty hunting, and it was almost like a casual stroll through nature with a good friend. While carrying blasters.<p>

She discovered she was a crackshot soon after leaving the Order, and wasted no time proving this to him. He was no stranger to the weapon either, and before long they got rid of some of the animals that had been attacking Meerian younglings.

"Not bad," He said, sounding impressed as he spun his blaster in one hand before holstering it, "Where'd you learn to do that?"

She pointed at him.

"Ah. _Quid pro quo _again. How about we drop this, since I don't know all the words in your weird sign language thing?"

Svana smiled. _Fair enough._

They cut off the tails as evidence and carried them in a bag. In the middle of the day they stopped to rest. Svana nibbled on her sandwich, feeling that disorientation whenever her mind flashed back to the days in the army, digging trenches and surrounded by soldiers, only to come to reality and find herself alone in a society she still did not understand. This time it was the wilderness, vast green pastures interspersed with a lone tree here and there. Clouds were covering the sun, making sitting out in the open bearable. There were large birds fluttering back and forth over the grass, and small mammals and feathered reptiles darting between the green blades.

"Hey, you alright?" Atton broke into her thoughts. She glanced at him, blinking in question. "You have that look on your face." He paused. "Is it a flashback?"

She hesitated, and then nodded. The past seemed both bleaker and yet cheerier than the present. Back then, she was someone important, someone who was making a big difference, and she knew it. Now she was a nobody struggling to do what she could. Three years, and she still could not seem to wrap her head around just how far she had fallen.

Atton scooted over and hugged her to him. "I can promise you this," He rested his head on her slim shoulder, "I'm sticking around. Unless you _really _dislike me for some reason."

She squeezed the arm around her and stuck her tongue out at him in a juvenile gesture she had not made since her padawan years.

"Oh don't you—" He made the same face, tongue poking out, "—at me, missy. You know you love me. Everyone does. Who wouldn't love all of this?"

She kissed his cheek in agreement. She knew better than to actually believe him; on the last planet they were on, Atton had come home beaten up, a clear evidence that there were people who disliked him immensely. _She _liked him though, and though she had never really paid much attention to his looks or the looks of any other man, something about his appearance grew more and more appealing to her the more time she spent with him.

One question did nag at her though. Why was he here? Why was he sticking around with her? Going as far as to get them both a home for a year at least, getting a job…when she met him he was a drunkard, but now he came home every afternoon and was never inebriated again. Somehow he attached himself to her despite hardly even knowing who she was, even now. Neither of them had any idea where the other came from. They did not even know how the other learned to use blasters.

_Don't ask. Quid pro quo,_ Atton kept saying whenever she diverted one of his questions with one of her own. If she asked him, he might ask her, and she could not give him a satisfactory answer as to why _she _was still here when she hardly knew _him_, and she would have to explain why she must ultimately leave, and then he would know about Malachor, how she caused so many deaths, and how she was once a _Jedi_.

Atton hated Jedi. He was going to hate her. All of the sudden, she felt cold.

"It's okay," He probably did not know why her mood dropped, but he tried to do something about it anyway, "I know I'm not much, but it's been good, yeah? And I'm here if you need me. At least you have that."

Will he always be here? Will he once he learned who she was?

_Don't think about it,_ Svana told herself firmly. _There's no reason he will ever know._ She wrapped her arms over his and noted solemnly that she could not really bear the thought of returning to the loneliness that was her life before Atton.

He held her for a while. "Are you going to finish that?" He asked, looking pointedly at her sandwich.

Svana took a rebellious bite.

* * *

><p>Several months passed. News of Revan's war against the Jedi Order began to swell past the receding thaw of the Mandalorian wars. Svana wrestled with the feeling of obligation to help and the knowledge that she was truly powerless to stop anything. Atton was sadistically pleased.<p>

"Jedi and Sith," He said to her, "They're really no different. Jedi are in many ways worse, in fact. At least the Sith don't pretend to be anything other than murderous, power-lusting schuttas, but the Jedi—they're hypocrites. They're all, 'I am a force of good, I follow the Light', but what did the Jedi do during the Mandalorian wars, when the Mandalorian animals were slaughtering people by the millions?"

'Some Jedi help', Svana signed, 'Revan Jedi.'

"Well yeah," Atton conceded, "But one wonders if they didn't have their own agendas after all. Look at them all now. Look at Revan, declaring himself to be a Sith Lord now, with his lackey _Malak_."

Svana waited for a heartstopping moment for him to mention the third Jedi, but Atton did not seem to know there was one. Perhaps Revan had been angry enough with her that he decided to refuse to acknowledge she ever participated in the war. This was fine by her, actually, but she wished she knew for sure.

'War change people', She insisted, feeling the need to defend her old friends, even if they refused to recognize her as such and she could no longer recognize the people they have become, 'Good intention start.' Force knew she certainly had good intentions at the start.

"You're being oddly defensive of people you don't know," Atton noted.

'You know Jedi?' She accused.

"Yeah, I happen to know quite a few," Atton scowled, "Probably more than you."

Svana wanted to laugh, except her heart was pounding too hard and she felt her face drain of blood.

'You still know them?' She asked.

"Of course not. They're not exactly big on friendship, especially not with us lowly commoners."

Svana looked away. They all dealt with the aftermath war differently. She had broken, like a coward, cracked in the face of what she had done and how she had failed so many at once, but others went on, some of them feigning ignorance at the horrors of the violence around them, and perhaps veered to the Dark Side to cope. She wanted to defend them, because she knew where they all began, how they had all gone to war with no idea of what it was like and how it would test their strength of will and courage, and she wanted to tell Atton just how difficult it was to make decisions every day, not knowing which choice could lead to disaster, constantly conducting damage control, praying to the Force every night that no one dies or loses a limb or gets hurt otherwise. War was like facing everything terrible about life all at once—honest men and women became monsters, and good people lost against evil despite doing nothing to deserve their fates. It was hard not to lose hope in the Force, in life, lose faith in the idea that there was anything more to living than the desperate struggle of constant battle and warfare. Some Jedi stopped trying a long time ago, and they all had to do what they could to endure…but if the others, through their choices had hurt Atton, what could she do? Especially when deep in her heart, she knew that if Atton ever learned what she really was, he would blame her as he blamed the rest.

He could do nothing else, especially since she still blamed herself.

* * *

><p>Winter came.<p>

Snow iced over the roads, making travel treacherous, and due to the weather Atton's workplace closed for the week. He still went out though, claiming to look in to work for a few hours. Svana protested, sensing that he was lying even though there was no reason for him to, and afraid he was getting involved in something shady or harmful, but he assured her he will be careful and would be reachable by comm. Never mind that Svana would not actually be able to talk to him over the link.

He had started behaving strangely a while ago, often staring at Svana with an unreadable expression in his eyes. Svana, still struggling with whether or not to at least confront Revan, had at first been afraid that he was realizing she was thinking about leaving. Facing a Sith Lord was a death sentence, and over the months with Atton, Svana had wished for death less and less; she was doing good work for good people here, and the local Meerians were very fond of her. It felt nice to be wanted, even if every once in a while, her past crimes would loom like a shadow, reminding her that she deserved none of the happiness she experienced now.

He had watched her, and she had avoided his gaze, hoping he would not see her thoughts, but then the blizzard came and he kept leaving, for hours at a time, and she realized it could have been something else. Maybe instead of wanting her to stay, he actually wanted her to leave. Maybe he was tired of having a mute woman to share the flat with. Why was he always leaving? Why was he not using the opportunity to spend some time with her?

Was he seeing someone?

On the third day, a kind neighbor—a stocky female Meerian named Jinnia who often baked pies for Svana, knocked on the door after Atton was out. Svana had been sitting in the kitchen and trying not to cry. She did not do a good job of hiding her emotional state when she answered the door.

"Mrs. Rand!" Jinnia exclaimed, "What happened? Is something wrong?"

That did it. Svana burst into tears. She hid her face as the Meerian woman quickly let herself in to guide the human girl to sit down.

"What is it, dear? Come here, deep breaths and tell me what happened! Where is Mr. Rand?"

Svana shook her head miserably. She had no idea.

"Alright, calm down, dear, let's see, have you tried comming him? A bit hard in your state, I know, here, let me do it."

_Oh Force._ If Jinnia called Atton, Atton would know that Svana had been pining for him, and…what would he do? She had no idea, but the feeling of dread clogged her throat and would have silenced her even if she had not been silenced already for years. She grabbed the older woman's sleeve and shook her head.

"Oh don't be silly," Jinnia clucked at her, "Did you have a quarrel with him? Well I'll tell you this, it doesn't matter how bad the quarrel is, no husband is allowed to leave his wife at home crying like this. Just trust me on this."

_But I'm not his wife…_Svana buried her face helplessly in her hands as the kind woman entered the frequency.

"Hello Mr. Rand, this is Jinny, I'm here with your wife and she's in a bad way. Where are you right now?"

Whatever Jinnia had caught Atton doing, he did not seem to be with another woman, at least.

_"Huh?"_ Atton sounded confused. _"I'm, um, at the mall. Is Svana alright? What happened?"_

Jinnia was kind enough not to reveal that Svana had been crying. "She's not feeling so well. Can you come home as soon as possible? I'll stay with her until you get here."

_"Oh kre—um, is she sick? Is this an emergency, because I have this order to pick up in about ten minutes…"_

"Oh we can definitely afford for you to pick up your order, dear, ten minutes is fine. Your wife will be fine, she just needs to see you, that's all."

_"Oh, alright. Thanks for letting me know! Tell her I'll be home soon."_

Jinnia stayed with her, cutting up her latest pie and telling Svana to eat up because she was too skinny "for such a tall species, you and your husband both, not to say of course that you aren't doing a good job of taking care of each other," and chattering about the latest neighborhood gossip—some pet got loose, farmers dealing with some pest or other, relationships being formed by various neighbors, and the like.

By the time Atton came home, Svana was feeling more anxious than anything else. He was anxious too.

"Svana?" He shut the door and rushed to her without even acknowledging their Meerian guest, "Are you alright?" He began to feel around her forehead.

"She's not sick, sweetheart," Jinnia told him as she started to pack her things, "Well, this is my cue to leave."

'No, stay,' Svana signed, rising in dismay. She was such a lousy host.

"You don't have to go," Atton smiled at her, "Hi, by the way. How are you doing?"

Jinnia made a face at him, "I'm doing fine, dear. Take care of your wife. I better be going, anyway. You enjoy that pie, Mrs. Rand!"

Atton saw her to the door, talking about the weather and ludicrous conditions he had to drive his speeder in, some accidents on the skyway, parking in the snow, before coming back once she was gone to take Svana's hands in his.

"Hey, are you alright? What happened? Jinny said you weren't feeling well?"

Svana felt her cheeks grow hot. She stared at him, wishing she did not have to say anything, that there was a way to get him to drop this somehow. His eyes looked so concerned, however, and he was looking at her intensely, so she reluctantly admitted, 'No know where you go'.

"What? I went to check in work; thought I told you that."

He was lying, she could tell by the shift in his eyes.

'No need to lie', she gestured, a little angry this time, 'Why lie to me?'

"What?"

She stood up, unable to dispel her temper properly while sitting down.

'What you really do?' She signed, 'You say to Jinny you at mall. Mall no work.'

"I stopped by the mall—"

'You no work,' She hissed through her teeth, so angry her vision blurred with tears, 'You think I stupid. Call me "bimbo",' she had to spell out the word, 'But I know you lie. Why lie? What I do, you no trust me?'

"I do trust you," Atton reached out to her, but she jerked away, uttering a silent sob. "What did you think I was doing then?"

She felt like a fool, despite accusing him of wrongfully thinking the same.

'You see someone.'

Atton's jaw dropped. "That's what you thought I was doing?"

Svana would not stand being ridiculed. 'Why hide from me?'

"Svana—I—Oh Force, what is it with you women—"

Svana whirled around and fled to her bedroom. If he was going to be this way, then Svana was leaving. She was going to seek Revan, and if he killed her so be it, because Atton was seeing someone else anyway and there was no one left who cared about her and what reason did she have to stay? She was leaving. She was going to pack her things and go—

"Hey hey hey, wait, no, hey," Atton grabbed her and pulled her against him. "You were upset because you thought I was seeing someone else?"

Chest heaving, angry with herself now more than with Atton, Svana whipped her fingers out. 'No someone _else_. You and I have nothing.'

"Really?" The bastard was smiling, and he lowered his face to press against hers. "I think we have something."

She jerked in his hold. 'No anymore. You see someone else.'

"I'm not seeing someone else—look, calm down, let me explain where I went, alright?" Atton's embrace only got tighter the more she struggled, so she finally settled down after a while. "Force, if I knew you would get this worked up over this—heh, but come on, let me explain. Calm, calm, hush, Svana, it's not what you think."

She let him guide her bodily back to where she had been sitting in the kitchen, before kneeling in front of her and taking a deep breath. Svana wiped at her eyes, making plans in her head and trying not to succumb to the heart-shattering pain in her chest at the thought that the past few months had been a dream after all, a tease, a joke played on her by the Force, tantalizing her with what could have been but never belonged to her. She should have known it was too good to be true. She should have known Atton would not care for her, the way she had come to care for him. She was ugly inside, she had taken lives, she had sacrificed lives, and why would Atton settle for someone like her?

"You were right," Atton said to her, "I wasn't going to work."

She sniffled miserably, waiting.

"I was looking around," He went on, "I was also asking at the offices, about registration fees, but mostly I was looking around for this." He pulled a brown bag from his coat pocket. Svana's mind did not catch up with her instincts, because she had no idea why her heart suddenly froze at the sight of the bag until Atton reached inside and pulled out a small velvet case.

Her hands flew to her mouth. _Oh Force, I'm a complete—_

"You're a bimbo," Atton said to her, upon seeing her amazed expression. "You're a complete bimbo. You're pretty smart, but you're a bimbo. I just figured I could make you my bimbo. Officially. Since everyone thinks you're my bimbo anyway." His smile was sure, but his eyes were as nervous as she felt. "I would have gotten this earlier, but I needed to save up, and people here don't really play pazaak." He held the ring out to her. "So, how do you like the name 'Svana Rand'?"

There was no other woman at all. Svana felt like a moron, though never had she felt so ecstatic about it. Her grin could have split her face, she was sure, and she let Atton slipped the ring onto her finger with her heart in her throat and her soul in her eyes. Then she kissed him on the mouth and then hugged him tightly.

He might never know, but since that moment, all thoughts she had entertained of seeking Revan out were discarded. She had something real to live for, a real home and a real hope. Atton had, effectively, saved her life.


	6. Chapter 6

The Silent Maiden

Chapter 6

There was no wedding. Hard to have one, since everyone thought they were already married. Atton settled for taking her out to dinner, pretending it was an anniversary rather than their actual wedding night. He had never seen Svana so happy—she was positively glowing, and he had a feeling that this simple way of doing things, as opposed to long elaborate expensive ceremonies and receptions, probably made it all easier for both of them. She did not seem to have any idea of what weddings consisted of and so did not seem to miss anything. He personally never saw much sense to the whole march, and wedding dresses were not interesting since they hardly ever reveal the interesting aspects of a woman's anatomy.

Speaking of which, he instantly made a quick study of Svana's. He had been dying to take her for months, and he wasted no time doing so as soon as they were official. Svana was like a little lamb, but though she was a bit scared sometimes, she trusted him enough to follow through anyway.

Making love to virgins was fantastic. Or perhaps it was just Svana. She was not only a beautiful woman, she radiated beauty from within, and in many ways it was a shame she was not Force-sensitive, because she might have been an extraordinary Jedi, one who could show the Order just how it was done. She was completely hopeless and ignorant on matters of the bedroom, however, and Atton enjoyed exploring her, feeling the slender outline of her form, her skin in places he had never dared to touch before because it felt too derogatory to take such liberties with someone so pure and untainted without some substantial accountability. He worshiped every inch of her and kissed her all over, tasting the sweetness of her silky skin and smelling the clean smell of young maiden. Not to be maiden much longer, of course.

She was so new, in fact, she could not hold back any of her responses. She tried valiantly, and it was adorable, sometimes pushing at him when she was not sure what he was doing or why she was feeling something, but she soon became a writhing form of desire, her pretty face contorting in pleasure, mouth gaping as she tried to suck in breath and clear her head. Her body twisted gracefully under him, as elegant as any dancer, and her skin was soon covered with a salty sheen of sweat as he worked her relentlessly, not giving her any breaks or any time to gather her thoughts. Several times Atton overwhelmed her senses to the point where she almost cried out, but the silence that plagued her over the years did not quite dissipate, so Atton found himself trying hard, almost making it a game, to try to pleasure her so that she would actually moan. He never got to that point, but she was lovely in the throes of ecstasy, and he loved all ways she would respond to the things he did, even if she could not cry out—in a way, it was even more exciting because of the silence.

She had a rough lifestyle before, so the evidence of her maidenhood was not present, but it was still her first time and she was afraid. Atton used his best skills for all they were worth to ease the process, and by the time it was over, she was so worn out she fell asleep instantly, and Atton, despite his experience, quickly followed suit.

When morning came, they made love again, and once again she fell under his ministrations like clay in a potter's hands, as responsive and vulnerable as she had been their first time. The sexual prowess of Atton Rand? Totally earning its money's worth with Svana, especially as this time, Atton was discovering a ton of new places on her body that he had not realized the previous night. If this was to be the pattern of their relationship from now on, Atton would be willing to quit his day job.

She was still stubbornly silent, though she was close to whimpering once they were joined. Atton leaned over her and gathered her tightly into his arms and whispered, "I love you Svana" as he thrust his hips, and she did not have the presence of mind to respond. When they were done, though, she raised her lips to his ear and softly whispered back, "I love you, Atton," the first time she ever spoke with her tongue, which prompted a second coupling that was just as amazing and educational as the first. There was always something new to learn with her, and Svana was beautiful and good and smart, even if he liked to call her a bimbo, and she was now his, totally his, just as he was hers and he was perfectly alright with that.

Force, he was the luckiest bastard in the galaxy.

* * *

><p>The Jedi Civil War broke out into the public's eye like an explosion. All of the sudden people realized they were sending their Force-sensitive children to their deaths and there was great uproar as Revan's forces broadened their targets to encompass more than the Jedi they were fighting against. The casualty counts were high, and the Republic began withdrawing support from the "less important" systems in order to fund the war.<p>

"Two wars and not even ten years," He said to his lovely young wife, habitually hiding how much it disturbed him that he had very nearly become one of those casualties. "Everything is going to hell."

Since their marriage, Svana's empty presence began to fill a little, and since their first coupling he sometimes sensed her feelings. She seemed to be haunted by something, perhaps her losses due to the Mandalorians, so he embraced her tightly and kissed her soft, warm neck. Force knew, Atton Rand committed his share of crimes, but he was going to put his skills to full use to protect the best thing in the galaxy.

He was so glad he chose Bandomeer. Refugees from both wars flocked to the planet they had met on, to Nar Shaddaa, while all the influential systems became targets of attack. The Meerian homeworld remained sparse and rather prosperous due to its self-sustaining resources and remote, obscure position. It was not the sort of place people normally think of because few even knew Bandomeer existed. They were safe here, and could heal here. They have healed much, already.

It occurred to him that there was still much about Svana's past that he did not know, and much about his own that she did not know, but neither of these things seemed important. He knew _her_, knew how to make her laugh and gasp and sigh, knew when she was scared even when to a stranger she would have looked calm and collected, knew how she tended to go overboard with helping others and what he could do as a husband to rein her in. Similarly, she knew _him_, knew when he was upset and just what to do to make him feel better, perfectly supplementing anything he was bad at (cooking, for one), how to soothe his temper and when to let it fly on its own. They were both escaping from their dark histories, and all that mattered was the present, their future stretching long and bright in front of them even in a galaxy shadowed with turmoil. It was probably cowardly, to hide when everyone else was suffering, and it was certainly different from what Atton had done during the Mandalorian wars—but he had seen war, and he knew what it could do to him, and Svana…well, war was the last place she belonged in.

"We're going to be alright," He promised her, and she nodded.

* * *

><p>The weeks passed.<p>

Atton was flying a freighter from the factory to an outlet when a storm hit. He stationed the freighter at a rest stop and turned off the engines to wait it out. The Meerians were a bit miserable in this weather, huddling in the cafes as snow gathered outside. He got himself a lunch and fiddled with his comm. link to see if he could not use this opportunity to chat with his young wife.

"Well I'll be," Said a familiar, sultry voice, "This doesn't seem to be your kind of planet."

Atton's head shot up in alarm. A green-skinned twi'lek female hooked her hand on her hip. For a twi'lek, she was actually not very voluptuous, but her every motion exuded that seductive confidence that made her species so exotic and dangerous, and in this one's case, Atton was more concerned about the latter.

"I could say the same for you, Jossa." He managed to return without giving away how hard his heart was pounding.

Jossa slid into the seat in front of him. "It's L'taki now."

"Ah." So she was carrying an alias, though perhaps not for the same reason as Atton.

For a moment, they were silent, Atton staring at her without blinking.

"Don't be so nervous," L'taki, or Jossa, or whatever she called herself, languidly leaned forward on her hand, elbow braced against the table. "I just wanted to say hello. You left without saying goodbye."

"Something came up."

"Oh? Failed one of your missions, I take it?"

Atton glanced to the side. Thankfully, none of the Meerians were listening.

"For your information, no, I did not fail. What are you doing here?"

"I asked you first, Jaq."

"No you didn't. And the name's Atton."

She wrinkled her forehead at that. "Indeed?"

"What are you doing here, L'taki?"

"What do you think I'm doing?"

"Don't play games with me, woman."

"Who's the one playing games?"

Atton was silent.

Her casual air dropped slightly. "I'm not looking for you, if that's what you're thinking, though I am sure there are plenty of people who would like to see you again."

"I'll pass on that." He was fairly certain that those people would be happy because they would get to kill him. Slowly, painfully, just the way he used to like it himself.

"Then perhaps you can do me a little favor," She stated, "You have not lost all your skills over the years, I hope?"

_Kreth._ This twi'lek was not someone to mess with. Even Jaq knew better than to tangle with her lightly. Oh, she was good in bed, that was nothing to argue about, but she was every bit as crazy as Jaq and only slightly weaker. His heart raced at the thought of innocent Svana running into Jossa. He had to keep his wife away from her.

Still, he had not lost _all _of his abilities as Jaq—Jossa had pointed that out quite conveniently.

"What, you actually need my help? Really?"

Her lips turned up into an attempt at smirking, but it was more of a grimace. "I am searching for someone. I'm under orders to bring her directly to the man, if you catch my drift, but she's quite thorough in her…invisibility. I have confidence that I'll find her eventually, of course," She leaned forward, pursing her lips seductively, "But since I've run into you, it doesn't hurt to…take advantage of some shortcuts."

"You lazy schutta."

"You know what they say. The lazy ones are the most brilliant."

"Or they like to think so."

She tilted her head and did not answer.

"Who are you looking for?"

"Jedi."

"No kidding." Jossa was a hunter, like Jaq. "Female, I take it."

"Young," Said Jossa, "Would prefer an old male. Higher on the saddle. Young ones are a bit less proud, less fun to whip." She took out a datapad. "Her name is K'dan Kylin. She served with the rogue Jedi in the Mandalorian Wars."

"…" Atton took the datapad, noting this Kylin's age, years of service, various battles she had been responsible for. This girl was fourteen when she enlisted, merely a padawan, and even though the descriptions did not say, the part of Atton that was Jaq easily deduced that Revan and Malak were both quite fond of her. She was something of a tactical genius in her own right, quickly became general and was knighted during her service. Her final battle was on Malachor V, and she was responsible for the end of things, as it were, though not without substantial losses. Afterwards it seemed she returned to the Jedi Council, and then simply disappeared.

"Any reason you still think she's alive?" Atton asked dryly.

"It's not what I think that matters," Jossa reminded him.

"Any reason _he _thinks she's alive?"

"You know we don't question orders."

That was definitely not something Atton missed.

"You don't have a picture of her."

"Yes…" Jossa said dryly, "You can blame whatever Jedi schutta spliced the holo-network. As I said, her invisibility was thorough. The only reason I have this information was because the Man gave them to me personally." She paused to let that sink in. "Supposed to be a hottie though. Cream skin, doll-like eyes."

Atton managed not to swallow at how those terms applied to Svana as well. Jaq rose at the back of his mind.

_Down. She's not a Jedi. Would have known if she were._

"He wants her alive or dead?"

"Alive," Said Jossa. "Alive and whole and unharmed. The boring kind."

"He might have interesting plans for her, though."

The twi'lek's eyes gleamed. "Indeed."

Kylin would be nineteen years old now. Still a child, in many worlds. Atton shut the datapad. When they had registered their marriage, he had seen Svana put down her birthday—it had been a mild shock to realize that his wife was barely a woman, but then Atton himself was only twenty-two. Most academies in the Republic had four-year-long programs and it was not uncommon to see couples with the same age gap. He wondered if Kylin might be some relative of Svana's, given to the Jedi; she usually seemed incredibly startled whenever Atton talked about their debauchery. Maybe a twin? A fraternal twin who happened to be Force-sensitive?

"I do have better things to do than do your job for you, sweetheart," He said to Jossa, and internally winced—he hated how as Jaq he had tainted so many terms of endearment.

"So do I," Jossa licked her lips suggestively, "But I'm assuming the better things you have involve your silly new name? You wouldn't want anyone to realize that's a fake one, would you? _Atton._ What kind of name is _Atton?_"

"It's a perfectly fine name," Atton scowled, wishing he could pretend not to understand her. Playing dumb would not get him far, though.

Jossa stood. "Make it quick," She told him without further ado, "I actually like you, or else I wouldn't offer in the first place." She lightly swung one of her lekku's over her shoulder and slipped away almost without Atton noticing.

* * *

><p>It was interesting that Revan thought this K'dan Kylin was still alive, because as far as Atton could see using what tools he had left at his disposal (which was nothing more than a computer every other person had, as opposed to the days when he was an assassin), someone had worked very hard to erase all traces of Kylin's existence. In fact, Revan himself had not been too forthcoming about her presence even when she was around—it was always Revan and Malak, Revan and his best buddy Malak, and since when was there a third Jedi among the leaders of the resistance? Then again, Kylin was a good ten years younger than the other two; both Revan and Malak were knights by the time they joined the war, but Kylin was still wearing her little padawan braid.<p>

She seemed to lead a secretive part of the army, one that was still quite large for its purposes but small compared to other branches of the military. Atton had heard of the branch and knew that they adhered to very strict protocols: all soldiers in that division were only allowed a limited amount of contact with their families, and no direct communication—all messages were first scanned to ensure discretion, so no one ever knew what they were doing. At Malachor V, they were all killed even though the Mandalorians were defeated; an event that seemed so incredibly off compared to Kylin's previous track record (if the data he was given could be believed) that Atton instantly suspected an inside job.

There were no images of her, no description more specific than the ones Jossa gave him. It was reported that she went back to the Jedi Council, but then nothing. Even the Jedi roster did not mention that she ever existed. Jossa would not be sent on a wild goose chase. She could be sending _him _on one; she was sadistic like that, but…

_Sith._ He could attempt to kill Jossa. That would solve a lot of problems. The issue was that he was not sure he could do it cleanly and neatly enough, and Svana…he could not risk Svana in any way, and he knew if Jossa was good, which she was, she probably already knew about Svana. _Why is that schutta on Bandomeer of all places?_ If Jossa had gone anywhere else she would not even have known he was here. _Freaking Force playing this on me on purpose…_

He browsed through the pages on his computer, hoping to search for clues. Bonds through the Force, whatever that meant, character profiles—usually quite useless, actually, but he found himself hating this Kylin character less for some reason. Force, she was just a child when she went to war. He would have felt bad doing a fourteen-year-old even as Jaq. People should not go to war until they were at least old enough to bang. And now, because this girl knew the wrong people, belonged to the wrong group, she was going to be tortured to death.

Warm hands rested on his shoulders, near his neck.

"Hello love," He reached up to hold the fingers without turning around, "Just looking up some things."

Svana pressed her face against his, eyelashes so long that he could tell her eyes were closed just by feeling them. He relaxed his back and leaned to her, reaching up to hug her behind him. He had gone straight to the computer after returning from work today; she was probably feeling a bit neglected.

"Sorry, Svana. I ran into someone at work. I'll just be a minute."

They kissed once, Svana let go and left him alone. Through whatever connection they had between them, Atton sensed that she was happy and content that he was safe at home after that snowstorm. He watched her retreating form, musing that it felt incredibly good to have someone feel that way, someone be glad he was safe rather than out and about. If he had not met Svana, he would never have known what it was like.

He glanced at his screen. _Sith take it. This Kylin person can wait._

* * *

><p>Atton spent the next few days just researching.<p>

Svana offered to help, but Atton did not really want her to get involved in what promised to be a sordid affair_._ Nor did he want to give her any reason to catch Jossa's attention (she was probably already in danger, if Atton knew Jossa). The only thing that comforted him was that Jossa was well aware of how dangerous Jaq was, and like any sensible assassin, she would not endanger herself more than necessary. Jaq would, at the very least, make her existence very very miserable, and any assassin learned to be cautious with unknowns—Jossa had no idea why Atton had ditched the Sith, and she was not going to push any buttons until she knew what his new boundaries were..

After a while, it became apparent that finding Kylin was going to take much more than what Atton had. He left his apartment one night, as his wife slept, and headed to the roof where he knew Jossa would be waiting for him. It was dark, and the stars scattered in the sky, twinkling and sparkling down the peaceful, if cold world below. The twi'lek, wrapped in a thick warm cloak, materialized next to him as silently as she was known to do.

"She's a pretty little thing," She began. "Where did you find her?"

"Streets of a ghetto bar handing out sandwiches to the homeless."

"You're kidding! One of _those _poor fools, hm?"

Atton did not reply. He once had a similar bitter mindset. Instead, he found himself feeling sorry for Jossa, who was trapped in an unforgiving life that would never allow her to see the good in anyone._ The world is such an ugly place for you._ He had nearly been condemned to that kind of life for as long as he lived.

"Didn't know you were the marrying type, Jaq."

"Atton."

"Whatever. In any case, that is very _sweet_ of you. I didn't know you had it in you. And a sweet little lamb like her was perfectly alright with what you are?"

Atton noted grimly that Jossa had another weapon under her belt. There were other ways he could lose Svana besides death, after all. "Really, I'm already doing the legwork. Threatening me with more things is hardly going to make this happen any faster."

Jossa gave him a scrutinizing look. "You've become rather boring," She drawled, "She means that much to you, does she? I'll keep it in mind."

It was hardly something Atton did not already expect, so he did not comment on it. "I'll need to get off planet."

"Where?"

"I need to head to the temple. Coruscant, first, and if that one doesn't work, there's another on Dantooine."

"I'll save you _that _bit of legwork," The twi'lek female said dryly. "There is nothing on Coruscant that you'll find that I didn't. She did go to the temple, to face some sort of trial. Much of the records were erased, but the term 'exile' did show up, which I suppose is only natural. There was a straight trip out of Coruscant heading to some remote planet, M4-78, and I managed to isolate a trajectory that eventually led here."

"What was the trajectory?"

She named a few systems, mostly remote planets and moons, but tellingly the last place the female Jedi was reportedly on was the same place Svana and Atton had been, which was interesting, since Atton had never sensed a Force-sensitive nearby when he was there.

"How were you able to track her?"

"I'm that good."

"For real, Jossa."

"Analysis of the patterns she was likely to choose, based on that first planet on M4-78. There aren't that many people heading there, it's a droid manufacturing planet and chuck full of radiation. She managed to dissipate the radiation by slicing into the computers—master slicer, that Kylin. I just used M4-78 and the planet she went to next, used a prediction algorithm to map the likely places she would go next and followed the hyperspace trails that were left."

"It's been three years. What hyperspace trails?"

"There were some for the first few places she went—much of it was undisturbed due to how few people went to these places. Later on it got harder but the algorithm worked better with more input. She's definitely been to Bandomeer. I just need to know where she went next." She tilted her head. "Assuming she's not still around. Any misguided Jedi Exile attempting to 'do good' for the people?"

"Pfft," Atton rolled his eyes, "You know as well as I do that they do as much good as Sith do. At least the Sith are honest."

"Your little bride likes to do a lot of favors."

Atton did not like where this was going. "Clearly she's not a Jedi, then."

"Clearly," But Jossa was dismissing the idea for another reason, "You'd probably shove a lightsaber up yourself before going so far as to marry your pretty wife. She's a sweet little thing, what a lovely smile. You know what I want to do?" She inched closer, "I want to slice off her plump little red lips and pop out her pretty eyes and seal them in amber. What a nice paperweight that would make!"

Atton did not rise to the bait, though every inch of him yearned to sock the woman in the face. Maybe take a knife and carve off _her _lips and eyes, or maybe burn them. All sentients are reduced in more ways then one when they are lit on fire.

"When approximately did Kylin come to Bandomeer?"

"Within this past year."

"That's impossible."

"Why?"

Because if a Force-sensitive had come on planet, Atton would have known. Jedi, especially, would have stood out like a light in the dark, not only through the Force but in their mannerisms.

"There aren't exactly that many humans around here, you know. Meerian planet, and all that. I think I would notice a Jedi among them, that being sort of my job before."

"Then perhaps this was just a brief stop. Either way, she was here within the past year, and I want to know where she went." Jossa stepped back. "Find her, whatever-you-call-yourself-now. I don't exactly have all the time in the world."

* * *

><p>Svana was still asleep when he returned. She snuggled into him when he came back to bed. Atton wrapped his arms around her and held her close, breathing in her warm scent. Jossa was still out there, but here in their apartment, he felt strangely safer than when he had been on the roof. Svana was real, and she was with him, and her presence served to root him in the reality that was his new life.<p>

He will find this Kylin, and he will get her to Jossa, and then he will go back to this life with Svana and not think about how he was sending away a child to the mercies of Darth Revan, because Svana was much more important than some baby Jedi, and frankly, Atton was use to trading one thing for another. This was hardly a trade at all.

_Think of it as one last mission for Revan,_ He thought. One last thing, and then he can move on.

_You're being nauseously optimistic,_ Jaq's voice echoed in his mind.

Atton shut his eyes and ignored the uneasy feeling in his chest.


	7. Interlude

The Silent Maiden

Interlude - K'dan Kylin

_5 years ago_

"She's just a kid. She's a padawan. What are you planning on doing with her? Assign her a freaking division?"

Said padawan folded her arms, trying her best not to look too exasperated. Revan glared at his friend while musing that this was strange, bizarre, out of the norm—Alek was usually the more reckless one of the pair, always creating mischief, breaking the rules. Revan himself did not get where he was by abiding by the Code all the time, of course, but usually he broke rules with purpose, whereas Alek was more impulsive with his actions. Of the two, Alek should be more sympathetic than Revan.

"This 'kid padawan' can beat either one of us in a lightsaber duel with her eyes closed, and it's not like we have any _masters_ who are willing to fight for the galaxy."

Alek loomed in front of Kylin, their differences in size enhancing how small she was, how young and childlike, her figure overly slim because of her recent growth spurt, her face round from the vestiges of baby fat without adequate bones to fill in her form. Her breasts had not even grown yet, her hips were narrow, and her ankles and wrists slender, betraying her youth.

"The Mandalorians are killing those even younger than me," Kylin pointed out to Alek before the Jedi Knight could begin, "War does not spare the young and old. We all die. I am not afraid of death."

"You're not afraid of your own death," Alek articulated in a display of profound perception—for all his flaws, he was not a Jedi Knight without reason, "All these years you were padawan, you've never undertaken anything like this. Thousands of lives, millions of lives, will be in your hands, and one misstep can cost them all. You think your fourteen years gives you the wisdom to handle that?"

"You think your twenty-five years does?" Kylin challenged. "You think anyone is ready to take the reins before they do? You think I'm not still responsible for millions of lives if I step back and keep away? Do you feel the Jedi Masters are no longer accountable for the casualties just because they obeyed the Council's orders? You think the Council is absolved?"

"That is not the same! You are assuming a role you are not ready for! That is not meant for you! _They _are neglecting a duty that they're obligated to fulfill, but don't you go thinking that the former is somehow better!"

"Alek, calm down," Frankly, Revan expected Alek to be pleased by the enthusiasm of the Jedi who followed them away from the Jedi Order. His own homeworld had been attacked by the Mandalorians, after all, and the war was an issue close to heart for him. Still, seeing Kylin, young, fresh, innocent, beautiful, and untarnished by the ugliness of the galaxy—he would no more send Kylin to war if she had been his own baby sister, except they needed Kylin and there was no one else to substitute. "We can discuss this like _civil _Jedi, please."

"You keep her in the back lines," Alek turned to Revan, "She can train the soldiers, manage the communications, but we're not sending a little girl out into the battlefield."

"I'm _not _a little girl," Kylin snapped in frustration, which was funny because she was such a little girl. "You don't have to treat me like I'm some kind of helpless infant."

Alek glared at her, and then at Revan, who scratched his nose. At least on this point, he was not going to refuse his dearest friend.

"I _can't _send you on the front lines, Padawan," He said to her, "Soldiers have to trust each other, and no one is going to trust you. Alek and I both know how capable you are, but ability does not make up for years. You're not going to look any older than fourteen just because you can defeat the two of us. There's lightsaber ability, and then there's tactical ability, the ability to work in groups in stressful situations and react to unexpected twists in life, none of which you have been exposed to in your _short _years as padawan, and while I'm confident you'll adapt, I need to consider the performances of others that you will be working with."

Her face turned stony, and her Force signature was turbulent as she released her frustration. She was desperate to help—her heart ached for those who were suffering from the war, and Revan could understand and empathize. It was an uncomfortable feeling, being helpless.

"At last you speak sense," Alek muttered. "Mind you, girl, the back lines are even more important than the front. We're placing a lot of responsibility on you. No spire touches the sky without a solid foundation. Frankly I'm not even sure if you should even be doing _that._"

"My name is not _'girl'_, and if you think my 'short years as padawan' somehow means that I can't handle war, then perhaps your _short years as knight_ hasn't taught you anything about the correlation between wisdom and age, and the fact that not everyone has the luxury of _knowing war_ before participating in it, but that doesn't mean they can't succeed anyway. It might be news to you, but the galaxy wasn't always in a state of war!"

"He cares about your well-being, K'dan," Revan said gently.

"No he doesn't," Kylin huffed, "He just thinks I'm inept. If we judged everyone by their appearances, many a great Jedi would have been lost to obscurity."

"Many a Jedi was lost to death because they strove for duties earlier than they were supposed to," Alek exclaimed sarcastically.

"I'm old enough to be the Queen of Naboo."

"The Queen of Naboo doesn't do anything except sit there and look pretty!"

"Alright you two, stop." Revan rubbed the bridge of his nose, "We need her, that's that. It's unfortunate, but then so is war."

"This is monstrous," Alek whirled away, "Throwing children onto the battlefield—even the Mandalorians aren't so barbaric!"

"As if you'd know!" Kylin returned, but the matter was settled, whatever Alek had to say about it.

* * *

><p>It became very obvious early on that Kylin's abilities stretched further than her skills with the lightsaber. From a tactical point of view, Revan soon saw that keeping her behind the lines was an inefficient use of resource. She did well there, and the army was well-sustained because of her, but she could do better elsewhere and it was Revan's job to see that.<p>

"You'll get her killed," Said Alek.

He could not say that he thought she was inept anymore—her death would not have been caused by her incompetence, but they both sensed a heaviness that was fated to settle over her, an emptiness that symbolized death and demise. Her future lingered on the precipice of light and dark, and Revan's reallocation would tip it to one side and one side only.

"I can't hold on to an asset and not use it when this could spare millions of lives."

One for all and all for one—the individual for society, and all individuals for one society; it was never a fair exchange, but life was not fair. Revan looked at Kylin and noted that she was still thin, even if her breasts had filled a little over time, and a few pimples dotted her complexion, a result of both her natural growth and the stress of leadership in someone so young. She still wore her little padawan braid—a student without a teacher, because none of her teachers followed Revan into the war. It was like looking at an orphan; there was a feeling of abandonment surrounding her, no one to take care of her, no one she could depend on. When he assigned her to a proper division, he was going to have to assign someone to look out for her, especially now that her figure was starting to acquire shape, and there were a lot of frustrated men around.

"I hate children," He muttered. Children were so complicated—he would never have had to consider all of this if Kylin were four years older.

Alek looked at him from the corner of his eyes, but had the grace to say nothing to this.

"You do this, people will think you're crazy," He said, "They might defect if she messes up."

"She won't." Kylin had great tactical skill, evident from her unofficial counsels. There was something that worried Revan though, as an older brother of sorts. "I'm more concerned that she'd get harassed. Most of the soldiers have gone without for a while."

"She doesn't even have curves."

"It's not like pedophiles announce themselves. Plus, if the Mandalorians caught wind of a young girl-child leading a division, they will focus on her as the weakest link and she might not be in the best position to defend against that."

"So…what do you intend to do?"

"I don't know," Revan replied, rubbing his chin for a moment, "But one thing is for certain. The people she works with will have to be very particular. We can start her off with guerrilla warfare—not many know her status as a Jedi, or even of her existence, really. She can lead an elite team that functions at a top-secret level, independent of the others. This way even if the Mandalorians catch wind of her, her mystique would hamper their morale."

"What about the invisible pedophiles within the Republic forces?" Alek asked dryly.

Revan scowled. "It wouldn't be the first time we used the Force to determine one's character," He pointed out, "As for the rest, she does have her lightsaber. Let's just hope the Force protects her from her naivete; I certainly can do no more than select those close to her with discretion."

* * *

><p>He met Jerich by chance. They were overseeing escorting a group of refugees and sending them on freighters. The foot soldier was doing nothing more than kneeling down to comfort a scared child while the mother watched, but the Force usually worked with subtle, small things. Details often hinted at the bigger picture, and the sight of him struck Revan profoundly.<p>

Most of the officers were use to Revan's "whims", as they were called; Force-blind individuals often find his decisions irrational, but could not argue with the results. The man was in an entirely different division from Kylin, but his captain offered no complaints when he pulled Jerich out for an interview.

"Do you have any siblings?" He asked in his makeshift office, formed out of a tent.

Jerich was caught off-guard, but answered promptly enough: "I had one, sir. A sister, sir. She was killed by the Mandalorians."

Revan was betting she was a little sister, but he had to ask anyway. "I'm sorry for your loss. Was she younger or older?"

"Younger, sir. Her name was Yeda. She was about seven years younger than me."

"That's quite an age gap."

"So it is, sir."

"What was she like?"

Jerich was obviously confused, but he indulged Revan with admirable composure. "She was beautiful. Most little sisters don't like their older brothers, or annoy them endlessly—one of the two. She was very quiet and always tried to be helpful, even when she was too little to be of much help. Everyone adored her." He lowered his head. "When she died…she was fourteen years old. The Mandalorians took her. They don't always kill their victims immediately. I heard her screams as I pulled my mother away. I couldn't fight them off for her, not without subjecting Mum to the same fate. It's why I joined the army, so I can train and actually do something to protect innocent people like Yeda."

"That is admirable of you," Said Revan, "Many others become embittered, and wish the same fate on everyone else. They become jealous when others have better fortune than themselves."

"Well, I get jealous too, sometimes, sir, but I like to think that somewhere, maybe in the Force, or whatever is out there, Yeda is still watching, and I can't let her down like that."

Revan nodded.

He talked with the soldier for a little bit before sending him on his way.

* * *

><p>Three months later, dreadful news made its way to the front lines.<p>

"What the _Sith _is the Jedi Covenant?" Alek demanded, as he and Revan read the report. "How come I've never heard of it?"

"The Order has kept secrets from its members before."

"But a whole group of elite Jedi Consulars? Where did they even come from?"

The comm. link beeped. It was on an encrypted channel.

_"Sir, Planet Urygoz has been retaken."_

It was good news, but it was very disorienting to hear that when they were reading about a mass slaughtering of padawans seconds earlier.

"Oh," Revan tried to gather his wits. "What of Padawan Kylin?"

_"Um," _Revan cursed mentally at this—he was not supposed to emphasize Kylin's learner status. _"She is uninjured, sir. Shall I transfer you to her?"_

"No," Revan shook his head, "I will contact her later. Check on the wounded and hold until further communication."

For a long time, silence feel after the link was cut.

"She could have been one of them," Alek said softly in the end.

"Yes," Revan nodded.

"Strange, isn't it, that going to war saved her life. The Order ended up being the real danger. A padawan massacre…I didn't think the Order would sink so low. We both trained with them—do you think our own masters had a part in it?"

"It no longer matters," Said Revan. "We left the Order."

"Still," Said Alek, "To think, I was actually fond of some of them."

So was Revan, to a point. The Jedi Order was never really close-knit due to affection. They supposedly shared similar goals, similar ideals, similar skills, but they were not allowed to form attachments, and while between peers there were friendships, some even strong like the one between Revan and Alek, between teachers and students there was rarely a bond stronger than respect, or perhaps even tolerance. Still, there was that inherent trust students had in their mentors, the faith that their teachers would look out for them and would not willingly put them in harm's way. It was that unspoken pledge between padawan and master—the padawan was to learn and serve the master, and the master was to guide and protect the padawan until he or she was knighted. There was a moral obligation, even if there was not an emotional one.

He wondered if Arren Kae participated in the genocide. He doubted it, though. She had hinted at disagreeing with many of the Order's conduct. Would she have tried to stop the Covenant, though? She was even less likely to help those who could not help themselves.

"Should we tell her?" Alek asked, "Should we tell her about this?"

Out of all the Jedi that came with Revan, Kylin was the youngest, the only one who was still a padawan and still on the brink of adolescence. She probably had friends who had been slaughtered; the other Jedi were already knights and may or may not have friends as well.

"She might find out eventually," Said Revan, "But there's no need to hasten the process. The child won us a great victory with only a thousand men against a hundred thousand Mandalorians."

"How the blazes did she manage that, anyway? What, is she like Bastila? Since when was there another Jedi who was a genius at battle meditation?"

"We know Bastila, but we don't pay attention to the younglings. It's not like we'd know even if she did end up having the same abilities. Plus, isn't that just to our luck, that Bastila did not join us?" It had been a great disappointment when the woman refused. Revan had honestly expected better from her, for all her uptight demeanor.

"I don't think even Bastila could have won a battle when it's a hundred to one." Alek shook his head.

"Not with battle meditation alone, no," Revan agreed, "But Bastila was never really a leader material. Kylin is, and young as she is, she has a sharp mind."

* * *

><p>A sharp mind and a soft heart, as it turned out.<p>

_"It wasn't much of a victory,"_ She said as she wiped at her eyes, pretending that it was because of an irritant and not because tears were welling up. Revan decided not to comment on the moisture that streaked to her temples with each gesture, glistening obviously even on the blue shadings of the hologram. _"We lost around seven hundred men and half of the survivors are heavily wounded."_

Behind her, Jerich stood with his facial expression closed but his eyes alert, watching Revan over Kylin's head. Next to the man, she looked small and weary, holding herself straight and in attention with the last vestiges of her energy reserves.

_"We were isolating a quadrant of the soldiers but the other three surprised us. I ordered the men to separate into individual squads and scatter at least half a mile between each other. Many of the squads were swallowed, but the Mandalorians weren't able to count our numbers due to the scattered boulders, otherwise we would have lost."_

Revan was trying to see if she was hiding any injuries from him, but the Force only projected her exhaustion and crestfallen disappointment. He was tempted to ask her for himself, but with Jerich there, Kylin was likely to lie even if she was hurt.

"Hold the planetary base," He told her, "Alek will be joining you, after which your division will report to M1-35. He should be there in about three days."

He could tell she really did not want to face Alek, but she was mature enough not to complain. _Good girl,_ he thought, though he had to talk to her about coping with losses. He had no idea how she was doing, but from the way she kept wiping her eyes, she probably was not hiding her grief well from her men.

Then again, perhaps this vulnerability was just what would earn her the loyalty of her soldiers all the more. There was no way any of them could forget that she was a bloody fourteen-year-old girl.

"Do you have medics with you?" He asked.

_"Not enough. I need to go to them, if that is alright, Knight Revan."_

"Of course, Lieutenant. Make sure you eat something first—you've had a hard few weeks." He glanced subtly at Jerich, who did not react, but he sensed that the soldier understood. "Help will come as soon as possible."

_"Yes sir."_

Revan did not cut the connection immediately, instead studying her countenance. Young, tired, almost sick-looking. He wanted to comfort her, to praise her, but felt that might not be appropriate given the circumstances. Perhaps he could have Alek talk to her in private. She was taking the loss a little too hard for her well-being, and it was not even a loss. More compassion than the entire Order put together.

She needed to know that.

"You are a great Jedi, Kylin," He told her, before cutting the connection.

* * *

><p>Over the brief years, Revan remembered, Kylin became increasingly withdrawn. The bright light in her eyes dimmed, to be replaced with a flat glint that was pure intelligence and determination but lacked joy. He was not sure if even she knew what she had lost, but perhaps the kind of innocence she was losing was not the kind worth missing; it was valued because it was rare, but rarity said nothing of goodness and quality. Still, as an older Jedi, as someone who had allowed her to participate in an abominable project, he could not help feeling like he had failed her, that he should have taken better care of her.<p>

Still, how was he to comfort her, take care of her? They were not close. She was so much younger than him, and yet they operated as near-equals. To shelter her at all would be insulting, an attack on her youth and inexperience, and as the war dragged on and there were more and more losses and victories with losses, Revan could no longer afford to think of her as the baby of the group, the youngling to defend. He had to use her skills, her impressive ability to inspire those around her, her great tactical acumen and abilities in the Force. He could not allow himself to believe that she was somehow more important than anyone else, more vulnerable or more precious, just because she was so young. When it became apparent that her relationship with the Force was unique, Revan had to consider that before anything else.

The true threat was the Sith—the True Sith, as it were, an empire, a belief and way of life, lurking in the outskirts of the galaxy. Most were ignorant of it, but it became apparent that the Jedi Order had been uneasy about the danger all along. They reacted poorly, which could have cost them much, but the key to everything actually lied with the one who could so easily form connections in the Force, link all Force-sensitive sentients together to become a mighty entity. As the war progressed, Kylin's strength grew, and she was like a sun whose light stretched out to touch distant systems across the galaxy. It would not be long before her presence is felt by those who were waiting for the right opportunity. Already, when he met with her in her secret division that now stretched to millions of individuals, he could sense her connection with every one of them. She, amazingly, knew all of their names and all of their backgrounds, and had more friends than anyone in the galaxy. If the Sith ever got their hands on her, she could be the key to the galaxy's destruction.

With the padawan genocide a recent atrocity, Revan could not even count the Jedi among their allies.

In war, timing was everything. If something happened too late, it could prove catastrophic for all involved, but the same could be said of anything that happened too early. Kylin was growing too fast, and the galaxy could not keep up with her. Something had to slow her down, but it was not as if Revan could just tell her to stop getting stronger—the only way that could happen was if she was traumatized.

There was a saying: kill two birds with one stone. He needed to end the Mandalorian wars to give the galaxy time to recuperate from one war in order to prepare for the next, and he needed Kylin to pause in her maturation, and this could both be accomplished if he took advantage of Kylin's leadership. She was young, only sixteen, her breasts still small and her hips still narrow, much of her height stunted by the stress of war even with Jerich looking after her, but it had to be done for the good of all.

"I'm beginning to see," Said Alek, who was adopting the name Malak as the war progressed, "It's very easy to turn into replicas of the Jedi Order. I don't even really care about individuals anymore. I just see how they're useful. Funny how that works out, eh?"

"Does this make you feel more kindly towards the Order?" Revan asked.

"I wouldn't use the term 'kind'," His friend replied, "But less exasperated, I would say. I wouldn't go back to them, of course, It's worse to be an underling in these sort of things." He then looked at Revan with the perception he had always somehow had into Revan's character. "You're going to use her as a tool as well, aren't you? Sweet innocent little K'dan. Strange, she's seen a lot but she hasn't really changed. Just quieter, sadder, but still that shining young maiden. Her Force-sensitivity has doomed her. She would have been happier were she blind. I do wish you could find some other way. Out of all of us…she is the best one out of all of us."

"She's not really a Jedi," Said Revan, "She doesn't adhere to the Code, she adheres to the spirit of it, and that is the basis of her integrity. Where others could only aspire, she achieves. She is stronger than me," Revan paused, wondering if he should confess to Malak what he had sensed looming in his own future and that of his friend, "But I hurt her to help her. Sometimes you must hurt someone to save them. She is already walking a different path from the rest of us, but if she remains with me, she will suffer the consequences that were never hers to take."

Malak did not fully understand, but he understood enough. "Are you certain this is the only way?" He asked.

No, Revan was not, but he could think of no others given the time and resources he had to work with. "Yes," He said to Malak.

His friend might have sensed something in the Force as well, even if he did not know all of Revan's motives. "We wouldn't be able to protect her anymore."

"We never really were," Revan pointed out.

* * *

><p>He assigned K'dan Kylin to Malachor V.<p>

The rest was history.


	8. Chapter 7

The Silent Maiden

Chapter 7

Atton had started behaving strangely lately.

Svana tried to ask him what he was researching, but he only kissed her on the forehead and looked at her like whatever he was doing had to do with taking care of her, and he refused to say what it was.

It was a bit annoying, because it reminded Svana of when Revan and Malak kept trying to protect her just because she was the youngest, sometimes at the expense of everyone else. If anyone needed protection, it was the people around her. Svana had always been able to take care of herself, with or without the Force.

On the other hand, she did faint in front of Atton before, initiating their relationship. She supposed it was not so outrageous that he felt protective of her, but she did wish he would tell her what he was protecting her from.

The days passed this way; during the day Atton would go to work and Svana would go around the neighborhood visiting the Meerians. Atton would come home in the late afternoons to research something for that friend he met the other day. At night he made love to her, always surprising her—she could never seem to keep up with her husband and was always left panting and exhausted. None of her Jedi training prepared her for the vigor of the bed.

Yet even with their healthy relationship, a sense of unease settled over Svana. There was something wrong with her husband, and there was no way for her to effectively make him tell her what it was. Her silence limited her, and if he ever wanted to avoid answering a question, all he had to do was look away. Without the Force, there was no way for her to release the frustration, and so she began swallowing her feelings just as she had for the last three years before meeting her husband.

Still, she was once general, and Svana was as good a splicer as any professional. Atton did not lock his computers from her, but he did hide files, knowing he would only seem more suspicious if he tried to block her from accessing them. It was a simple matter of rooting them out, and so one morning after he left for work, Svana sat down and began browsing through the computer.

She was not sure what she had been expecting, exactly. Probably porn, or something along those lines.

She was not expecting to come across her old name.

For a while, Svana simply sat there, staring at the letters and feeling a cold chill settle in her stomach. Atton _knew?_ And never told her? She clicked through the files, the various battle reports and character profiles. _Light-skinned human, Svana's age,_ one file notated, and another, _Likely Svana's relative?_ There were no pictures of her; it was obvious Atton had no idea what she looked like.

_Why is he looking in the first place?_

More files yielded her various locations throughout the years in her exile, ending with Bandomeer, but Atton seemed unable to find out where she might have gone afterwards. There was no hint of why he was searching for her in the first place, nor what prompted this, though Svana would wager that it was due to whoever he met when he had flown out of town during the snowstorm.

_Someone knows I am here._

Was it an old colleague? Revan? She backed out of the files and arranged the system's memory so that her access was not recorded. Perhaps someone wanted revenge—she could not say for sure. When she had left for her exile, no one had missed her, no one had wondered where she went, as far as she knew. Who would seek a broken Jedi who no longer had the Force?

_So what is going on now?_

She went on the holonet, figuring that Atton had done this already, and searched for her old identity. Nothing. There was not even a mention of her in the roster of soldiers who fought in the wars.

_Someone took the trouble of deleting me._

Svana covered her face and tried not to panic. What could this mean? It was all so confusing. There was no reason to pretend she never existed. Granted, Revan had used her as a secret weapon of sorts; it was how they were able to defeat the Mandalorians on Malachor, even at the price it took, but deleting her existence _completely _seemed so out of proportion. Who was responsible for this? Was it the Jedi Council? Were they so ashamed of her that they did not wish to acknowledge her involvement with them?

_Is someone out there trying to find me?_ Deleting her from records would serve to hide her from everyone except whoever deleted her in the first place. It would not obscure her from those who already knew her, but it would help prevent strangers from knowing her.

_And how did Atton find out I ever crossed Bandomeer?_ His guess that she was a relative of Kylin was chillingly close to the truth, especially given that he had no real physical description to speak of. And it also came back to why Atton was looking for her in the first place—and not telling her.

_Bad business._ Atton was involved in some bad business, and he would not tell her what. Svana did not need the Force to feel her guts churn in warning. She always had strong instincts even without Force-sensitivity. Her husband was in trouble, somehow, and he did not want her to get mixed up in it.

She had to do something about this.

* * *

><p>Getting the parts to make a tracking device was easy enough to do; Svana had always been very resourceful, and tracking devices were fairly simple to make in comparison to many other feats of engineering she had accomplished in the past. Getting the tracking device onto Atton proved more complicated; it was not that he suspected her, but he was naturally very watchful. Her own sense of morals often stayed her hand as much as he did. Spying was for enemies, not for allies, for family, for loved ones.<p>

But she was mute, and though she had tried some other ways—refused Atton's attentions at night in a fit of temper, sulked unhappily in the kitchens, and generally tried to play on any semblance of care he had for her, Atton would not budge on the issue. She knew it was not because he did not love her enough; she could see the torment in his expression, could almost feel it to, as if the Force lingered on the very edges of her conscience. He would come home from work looking weary and sick and there was nothing that would brighten him again until she smiled at him and forgave him.

At last she planted a tracking device on his shoe.

* * *

><p>Atton kept going someplace after work, and from the maps it looked to be the middle of nowhere. Svana allowed him to go for a while so that she could study the pattern, before heading out one evening to see precisely whom he was meeting.<p>

It was a twi'lek, green-skinned and beautiful. He did not seem to like her very much, and the feeling looked mutual.

"This is very disappointing, my love," She drawled as Atton approached her, "Back in the day, you use to produce much better results, and so quickly too. Perhaps you need a little incentive. That lovely young girl you sleep with every night—I wonder what you will do to keep her in your bed?"

Svana ducked flat against the wall, but from her hiding spot she could see her husband's hands clench.

"You're the one who gave me little to nothing to work with," He said in a tightly controlled voice that sounded distinctly like the Atton Svana knew. "Touch her, Jossa, and your pretty neck won't be intact for long."

"I wonder how true your threats are, Jaq," Jossa returned, "You seem to have lost your touch. Just a simple woman, that is all. She is right here, on this planet too. It use to be that even Jedi Masters could not escape you, and now this padawan—not even officially knighted, manages to elude you? Whatever happened to the Bane of Jedi? You use to be so good at killing them."

A cold lump formed in Svana's throat at these words.

"I'm not even asking you to kill this one. I'm just asking you to locate her."

"Maybe she knows. Why does Revan want her?"

"Since when do you keep asking unnecessary questions, Jaq?"

"Couldn't you tell? I'm not Jaq anymore," Atton grabbed Jossa by the neck, "I _quit_ before. It was _your _incompetence. If you want my help, we do this _my _way, and by the Force, if you try anything, I will tear you apart."

"Oooh," Jossa seemed not at all fazed, "That is kinky, love. Seems there is something of you left in there." She raised a hand to touch Atton's face, but he jerked away from her, nearly thrusting her to the ground.

"Tell Revan that Kylin is dead," He said, "She might as well be. If he can't find her with his mighty Sith powers, then neither can we. Get the kreth off this planet. I don't want to see you again, and if you every come _near _her, there are many things Jaq has done to Jedi that you have never even heard _whispered._"

Svana retreated back, aware the conversation is over, but Jossa then called out, freezing her in place.

"Oh, if your little wife knew what kind of monster you are, deep inside," The twi'lek sneered, "How you use to make Jedi scream, beg, how you plunged into young padawan girls in front of their masters. Boys too, I have heard. I don't need to go near her at all, Jaq. You are a monster, and you can cover it up with all the wits you have, but she'll find out if she's smart, and she is. I've seen her. She'll find out that you've raped and killed, and that you _enjoyed _it—"

Atton's blow came so fast that Svana nearly gasped. He struck Jossa again and again, so fast and so furiously the twi'lek could not even cry out. It was not so much the reaction, though, as the look on his face that terrified Svana. She had only seen such a look on the faces of those who were truly evil, and had never associated such an expression with her own husband. It was pure fury, animalistic and senseless, and she stood transfixed even when Atton stepped back, leaving Jossa a bloody heap on the ground.

"I would worry about myself rather than Svana if I were you, Jossa," He said calmly, as if he had not just beat the living daylights out of a woman, and turned around to leave.

Jossa remained crumpled where she was, even after Atton had gone. Svana waited for a while to see if the twi'lek would get up, but when nothing happened, she crept forward. The alien was unconscious, bleeding badly.

Shaking, Svana felt for a pulse. She was breathing, though barely, and her pulse was weak. She took out a comm. link to call the medcenter before tearing strips of cloth to staunch the various wounds.

* * *

><p>Svana was not sure if she wanted to go home, but ultimately she did. Atton was pacing in the living room, and he looked just as he ever did, her husband, her lover, her protector and confidant.<p>

"Where were you?" He demanded, "How come you didn't even leave a note? Do you know what time it is? And why didn't you answer the comm.?"

The comm.? Svana reached for it to find it blinking with missed transmissions.

'Lost time,' She gestured wearily, 'Sleep now.'

"Where were you?"

'No want talk about,' She replied.

"Oh come _on _Svana—Svana, what happened? Did something happen? Are you hurt?"

Svana shook her head, wondering if she wanted to go to the room she had shared with this man for so long. She felt dirty, unclean, and utterly crushed that her judgment had been so _abominable_—she could not believe she had fallen in love with someone so…shaking her head again, she turned away from him.

"Svana?" Atton's hands gently rested on her shoulders, "What happened? Come on, sweetheart, you can tell me."

_Really?_ Tell him that she had seen him, saw what he had done to the twi'lek, what they had talked about? Would he kill her as well? She shrugged from his grasp.

'Leave me alone,' She signed.

A crushed look came over his face, and part of her heart ached. She hated hurting Atton, but she was very scared, and there was nothing to be done about it.

She turned around to their bedroom and sealed the doors between them. To her relief, Atton did not follow.

* * *

><p>It was past midnight on Bandomeer when Svana began packing.<p>

She had sat with her head in her hands for hours, considering, considering, thinking about the years she had spent alone, how happy she had been with Atton, how devoted he was to her, how kind, but she could not forget Jossa's unconscious form as the speeders picked her up, the Meerian medical technicians asking questions she could not verbally answer. She did not tell them what she saw. They only knew she happened upon the twi'lek, and that was all they really needed to know. In truth, Svana was not even sure what it was she had witnessed in the first place. She could not even grasp the idea.

It was ironic, considering she had fought in a war, had seen brutality beyond imagination, but it still cut her to the core. There was something about the battlefield that made such acts more acceptable, or at least more expected. War was a matter of life and death, of hate and love, love for one's own men and hatred for others. It was why Jedi did not want to go to war. It required a certain level of hate, for one's opponent, for the other's cause, and a love of bloodshed. To delight in cutting down and defeating one's foe. It was something Svana had hoped would remain in the battlefield.

To see it here, in civilization, in her own _husband_, whom she had slept beside every night, had prepared meals with every day…in the end she knew, no matter how well he had treated her, Svana could never bear to look him in the eye and forget that she had seen the face of a killer that night.

So she packed, quietly, so Atton would not hear. Bare essentials, that she had brought with her, or had bought with the money she had earned on her own. She felt the ring on her finger before taking it off, staring at it in the darkness.

She did not want to give it up, but what would it mean if she took it with her? Nothing but a reminder of her mistakes, crushed hopes and dreams.

She set it on the bedstand, before turning around, lifting the bag, and heading quietly to the door.

* * *

><p>"Where are you going?"<p>

It was dark. She had thought that Atton had gone to sleep on the couch, but it turned out he was just sitting. It was not possible for her to answer, so she could only slow to a stop.

"Svana," She heard Atton rise, and then silence fell for a moment.

She had to leave, now. Even without the Force, the sense of time was strong, and she knew that her window of opportunity was closing.

"I know you followed me," Atton said, "I found it. On my shoe. Should have known I couldn't hide anything from you."

Even though she knew she should run, she turned to look at him in the darkness.

"Svana," He spoke, and there was a sharp light in his eyes, one that she could not interpret, "Svana, listen to me—"

She whirled around and ran, but he was fast, and his arm was like iron as it wrapped around her. She would have cried out, but all that came out was a cough, he pulled her back. The bag dropped and she tried to step on his foot, but he somehow moved out of the way.

"Svana, stop it, please!" He grunted as she elbowed him in the stomach, but instead of letting her go, he only held on tighter. Heart hammering, she tried to butt her head back against him, but missed. He spun her around and grabbed her wrists as she tried to trip him, and they both fell heavily to the floor.

Once down, it was over. He rolled on top of her easily, pinning her under him.

"Svana, stop, I don't want to hurt you!"

_No?_ Svana thought in panic, half of her wanting to laugh and the other half wanting to scream. Was this what he did to the Jedi as Jaq?

"Svana, stop it, look, I don't know what you heard, but I'm not that man anymore, you've known me for this long—we've lived together for this long, please Svana you have to believe me!"

She was shaking, and tears streamed down her temples. She would believe that he had changed, but she had also seen what he did to Jossa, and that was not what the man she thought he was would have done. Atton held her wrists tightly, not letting go. He reached with one hand to touch her cheek gently.

"Please, don't leave me," He whispered, "Not like this, no, Svana. I'll tell you everything, I promise, just—just don't leave like this."

_Liar. Murderer._ And yet, no different from herself. How could she condemn him, when she had killed millions, perhaps more in one battle than he did in his entire career?

He lifted her gently, like a porcelain doll, and there was a tremor in his grip as he checked her over. So careful with her, so different from how he treated Jossa.

Then he crushed her to him as if clinging for his life, and began to sob.


	9. Chapter 8

A/N: I know her name's suddenly Meetra Surik, because the guy didn't have the ability to hide her name from people, even though she apparently didn't feature much in the canon novel. I don't know, guess a "We don't know her name" tactic wouldn't work. I'm pretty peeved about this because this sort of thing is so off-handed—you design a character with the intention of keeping her identity free to the masses, but for the purposes of getting more $$$ you then add afterthoughts to the "canon", which is essentially entirely composed of fanlore. Everything non-movies (and even movies) is either George Lucas writing his own fanlore to his own works (because he loves himself so much, he's such a fan) or someone else writing fanlore, but whatever, since KOTOR2 would be classified as fanlore and I like KOTOR2. What I don't like is how this process is neverending. There comes a point where more information actually DESTROYS the integrity of a character or a plot or a universe, sort of like how people tend to be content about our parents just being our parents and we don't WANT to know if they have sex every night and for how long because that's not relevant and man does that info completely alter our impression of them. I didn't WANT to know the Jedi Exile's real name because her anonymity added to her enigmatic essence, and made her more of a romantic and tragic character because there she was, doing great things and history didn't even know her name. Well now we do. Her name is Meetra Surik. And screw us, if we didn't think of our Exiles as Meetra Surik, because now her name is Meetra Surik whether we like it or not. I don't blame the author for this, considering he needs to make a living as much as any of us, but I see no end to the amount of garbage Star Wars is adding to its own universe. Some of it is awesome, but there's so much needless trash that's made official and we're freaking paying them MONEY for it.

In any case…I'm not renaming my Exiles Meetra. I don't think I'll even write more fanfiction about Star Wars, maybe I'll finish up the ones I already have, but I give up. Star Wars, you just keep adding garbage to your universe in the hopes of inserting a gold piece here or there, and when you run out of everything else to add, you can describe Obi-Wan's poop and the texture of Anakin's booger's, or you can do a Force reboot and pretend everything we've been following was absolutely false so you can go another 30 or so years of building up a fake universe and undoing all impressions we have of the characters in them.

Sorry if this offends anyone, but I really hate the name Meetra Surik. Some people might like it, but that was the whole point of keeping the Jedi Exile anonymous; she was your Exile and my Exile and we were all free to believe our own interpretations of her, but after already believing in what kind of names she might have, now I'm stuck with Meetra Surik, and you're stuck with Meetra Surik, and why? Because she was Meetra Surik to one lucky guy. Now we have to cater to HIS impression of the Exile after the game. I don't care that he created Revan. I don't care LucasArts allowed him to name her, and that the Jedi Exile actually belongs to LucasArts. I think LucasArts doesn't know what to do with itself, and it's screwing up its own good works and doubling back on its own good decisions in order to weed more cash from all of us, and I'm really incensed by that.

Onward to Svana.

The Silent Maiden

Chapter 8

He told her everything, all the way up to that awful evening. The chip he found on his shoe lay on the table, still working. Svana stared blankly ahead as she listened to what he had done, to the last Jedi he had ever killed, how he fled, how he wound up on the same planet she had been on, lost, confused, but pretty certain that his life was never going to get better.

And then she came along, and he had dared to hope that even a worthless scoundrel like him could do something good in life. When Jossa came along, it became even more important, because Jossa was not like him, not like he is now. She never had a reason to change, was never shown the magnitude of her ways.

"She can kill you," Atton whispered to his young wife, physically willing her to understand, "She can make you _wish _she kills you. She doesn't know the concept of mercy. She only kept back because she is afraid of who I use to be."

Svana was silent for a long time after that, silent in the way that her hands were still and her face expressionless, but she made no move to leave again, and Atton found himself hoping, hoping—and how ironic it was, that he, a deserter, should be so afraid of someone deserting him. It would be no less than he deserved, but he felt desperate all the same, and if Svana stopped believing in him…

He was not sure what he would do.

When Svana did move, Atton thought he was going to have a heart attack, but she stopped moving again.

"Svana?"

'K'dan,' She signed. 'I am K'dan.'

"What?" Atton exclaimed, even though part of them was hardly surprised at all.

'Jedi you look for,' She signed, 'I am she.'

"You can't be," He said after a moment, "You're not Force-sensitive."

'Jedi Council took it away.'

_They could do that?_

'I fought Mandalorians,' Svana went on, her gestures rigid and choppy, 'I want help people. People hurt, I want stop, so follow Revan and Alek. Council forbid, Master forbid, but I no listen. Alek thought me too young. I insisted. Revan let me go.' She paused to wipe at her eyes. 'I _was _too young. People die, each time Revan said, "Good work", so hard to stop, scared to stop, kept thinking, "Next time, I do better, learn from mistakes, save all my men," but each time, more death. Other Jedi fell, I think, Force is with me, will help me protect my men, will protect us, no will forsake us, but then Malachor V.' She sniffled, and Atton realized she was crying. 'Revan said, "Congratulations, you help win war," but I made decision, kill, win battle, for what? Killed my men, for war. Went to Council. They say, must be punished, disobeyed, no good Jedi. No feel Force since."

He could sense the truth of her words, could almost see a younger version of his wife, still a child, battle-worn and weary, standing in front of the blank faceless forms of Jedi Masters of the Council. She wore the uniform of a Republic soldier, but he could see her lightsaber, blade white, as she cut into the marble block in a final show of defiance. As she left the temple, however, he could see that her face was sad, and she glanced back at the empty courtyards of her childhood, her home for all of her memory, the one place she had belonged, had believed to have been loved.

'I sorry," Her face contorted, 'I Jedi, like you say. I hypocrite, like you say. I try, no can help.' Tears spilled from her eyes. 'I sorry. Sorry.'

"No, Svana," Atton took her hands tightly, and she did not withdraw—inside he rejoiced, because the terrified look on her face from earlier—did she really think he could ever hurt her? He would never—but it cut him to the core, and now that she trusted him again, he wanted to hold on and never let go. "Svana, no. You are the best thing in this galaxy. I read the reports. I saw what was going on. There was no way your men would have made it out, and there was no way you could have retreated."

She shook her head frantically, and for the first time uttered a real, vocal sob while awake. It was so wrong—her first sound should not be that of such grief and despair. The void in her form was black, and he could see her overseeing the battle, the heavy decision upon her, to betray the men who trusted her with their lives, whom she had trusted with her life, and a deep sense of loathing that was not his own rolled across him.

_This is the most important battle we have had or will ever have,_ Revan had said to her. _It all lies on you, Knight Kylin. Do not fail us._ They had looked over the numbers and knew that Malachor was tactically crucial. If they had lost that battle, the Republic would have died a slow death, and the reverse would have been true if the Mandalorians had lost instead. Kylin had argued with Revan, saying that the odds were poor, if Malachor were so important, she needed more to work with. Revan claimed that it was all they had.

It had been a truth and a lie at once. They did have more, more Jedi, more troops, but the other Jedi were occupying other places, and sending any of them to Kylin would take time, time they never had. Atton was no strategist, but even he could see how complicated the situation was. For someone like Kylin, the Force likely guided her hand.

"Svana," He said quietly, "Svana, look at me. I don't know if you read the files. Hindsight is always…but that's how it always is. There was nothing different you could have done."

'I knew they will die.'

"Yes," He said softly, "Sometimes the only choices we are given…are bad ones. You chose the galaxy over your men, over yourself. You mourn them…you grieve, that proves you are compassionate, Svana. If every military leader were like you, ha, we probably would never have war." He raised his hands to feel her face, cheeks soft and smooth and wet between his palms. "How the Force the Jedi Order managed to spit out someone like you, I would never know, but you're destroying yourself like this. It's too much." He pressed her forehead against his; it was still the most intimate gestures he had ever done, and he had learned this from her. "The Jedi Council—they're idiots. You follow your heart, and they punish you for it to justify their own cowardice. It had ended poorly for your men, but it doesn't mean you were wrong. Trust me," He firmed his hold, "I've met many Jedi. I know what I'm talking about."

She drew back after a moment, wiping at her eyes, but staring hard at him now. He felt the dynamics shift slightly, the weight of her regard.

"I'm the one who needs forgiveness," He said with an uncomfortable smirk. He took her hands, which remained loose in his grip. "I didn't want you to find out this way."

She pulled away to speak. 'Would you have ever told me?' She asked.

"Would you?" He defended reflexively, but amended, "I didn't want you to see that side of me. I wanted to start over with you."

'You _very_ hated Jedi,' She signed, 'You hate them so much you hurt children. You no hate children, but you hurt them, because you hurt Jedi.'

He nodded solemnly.

'You no hate me?' She asked, vulnerable, 'I was Jedi. I kill my men.'

"Sweetheart," He slid next to her and tucked her face against his own, "You're the reason I stopped hating at all. I don't care that you were a Jedi. Kreth, I could have been a Jedi, I guess." He was Force-sensitive, after all, just not discovered. "And I don't think any other Jedi would have felt as guilty as you have."

'No good Jedi," She gestured, 'Should have accept. No death, is Force. No attachment.'

"Ha, that's a load of nonsense. Maybe it's not so important to be a good _Jedi_, as it is to be a good _person_," Atton hugged her tightly, "That's what I hate about the Jedi. They think being a good Jedi means being a good person. Those are not the same thing, and push comes to shove, which do you think matters more?"

She was still.

"Those men were fond of you," Atton went on, quieter, "They would have understood. They all knew they could die. That's what being a soldier is all about. I was a soldier. I knew that sometimes we die so that others could live. I also knew that, while I'm not happy about it, I could be deliberately sent to my death. I didn't mind _that_—how I die is not important anymore. What mattered was that the folks higher up who are sacrificing me didn't think I'm just some plastic figurine they could do away with. My life was important to me, so I wanted it to be important to them. If they send me away to die, I want them to understand that it is _their _privilege that I die for them, not mine. I want them to remember me and honor me after my death. That's what a soldier cares about. Honor. And you…you've been thinking about them all this time. There's nothing more your men could possibly expect from you."

'I see their faces,' She gestured, and he felt another tear slide down her cheek, wet against his. 'I hear their voices, I remember their names. I think of their families. Their families would hate me.'

"Some might," Atton allowed, "But many wouldn't. Some things we can't control."

'Hurt.'

"I know." He tightened his embrace, feeling her deep pain. "I know."

'Love you.' More tears spilled.

He kissed her slippery cheek. "You have no idea how much you mean to me, Svana."

She was still for a moment. 'You really think, they no hate me?'

"Some might," He said again, "But many wouldn't. Especially if they see how you never forgot them. Their deaths were not meaningless. You didn't toss them away because you didn't care. That's what we hate the most about Jedi." He felt a familiar burn of anger return. "They think they're better than us just because they have the Force."

'No,' Svana turned around, looking at him with large watery eyes, 'Hard. Go to temple, young, some still remember, mother, father, but no mother, father. Masters no care, no love. No allow love. Go to temple, no our choice. Too young, no can decide. Parents give us away. Masters tell us, parents give us to Order, hope we be great in future. Hard training, no allow jewelry, dress, no allow angry, scared. Train hard, years, go out to world, you think we strange, jealous, jeer. One man, in army, when I fourteen years old, said something mean to me. I no understand. Many soldiers laugh at me, say I little Jedi something. Later, learn they call me "whore", first man offered "open me up", because Jedi no allow what normal people have, he make fun.' She wiped her eyes quickly. 'All of us, we were given up, given to Temple train to protect you, but when we near you, you already hate us. We hate you too. You have family, you allow scared, hide, you allow happy, sad, marry, children. All those things, we would rather have.'

Atton watched her sign, enthralled. He had known the Jedi lived restricted lives, but it was something else to hear that his own wife had been called a whore. Not that he expected any better. She was fourteen when she joined an army of frustrated, deprived men. He supposed he should be glad she had never been raped.

'So Jedi tell us, Force matter more, these people, they no lucky, so they have other things instead. We believe them, because is easier. Otherwise, why help you? You no like us. You no want us. You gave us away, and when we no like you, you call us bad Jedi.'

Atton felt like an utter prick. "I'm sorry," He said softly, "I guess we _did _start that, in a way. It's just so easy for a Jedi to take advantage of us. They do, a lot of times."

'Yes,' Svana said readily, 'Hard, to care about people different from you. We sense things others no sense. Now I no sense." She smiled with sad humor. "I no Jedi."

"Because of the Jedi Council." If anything, his anger grew greater at that. "We'll figure out how to get it back."

She blinked at him, looking startled.

"Yeah," He said, "If they could wake up an idiot like me—they can't just rip the Force from you. Don't you want it back?"

She looked odd all of the sudden.

'I…' Her hands slowed, 'I scared.'

"What? Why?"

She held her face for a moment. 'When Malachor V, soldiers die, hurt. Hurt a lot. Hurt that Jedi Masters no help, but also glad Force is gone. Hurts less.'

Silence fell for a while.

'I wish I never was Jedi," Svana sniffled.

Atton did not know what to say for a moment. He rubbed her arms, up and down, to soothe her as well as soothe himself.

"Well, it doesn't matter now," He said quietly, "I'm here, I'll always be here for you. You can have all the things you would rather have." He looked down at her hands and noticed that the ring was gone, but it did not matter. She was still here; he had stopped her in time. He kissed her hands reverently, but sensed her thoughts drifting toward the men who would never have what she had. "Svana…you really can let go. Some would be unhappy, some would blame you, but it wouldn't be real blame. You had a hard choice to make, it was…it was up to the Force, whether you chose well or poorly, but you have done nothing wrong. Absolutely nothing." He squeezed her hands. "You have nothing to forgive. You just need to forgive yourself."

_Unlike me,_ He thought, but after a moment Svana leaned forward to embrace him, letting out another sob, and this time her weeping was therapeutic. Years and years of silence came gushing forth, and he held her all through the night as she cried. Here was a hurting jewel of the galaxy, depending on him, confiding in him, hiding her tears against his shoulder.

The fact that she was willing to do that, to trust him, perhaps to stay and continue loving him…

Atton might atone, after all.

* * *

><p>Of <em>course <em>Svana took Jossa to the medcenter.

'No kill her,' His wife said the following morning with a cute frown. She was signing because the sound of her own voice now startled her. This was going to be a long process. 'I know tricks. She no can hurt me.'

"That's a bit presumptuous," Atton muttered. "She's killed _Jedi_ before, Svana. Not as many as me, but she's killed _a lot._"

'Especially if you with me,' Svana went on as if he never spoke.

"I can't be with you all the time, I have to work, and everything!"

'No kill her,' Svana reiterated, and it was a bit absurd. 'Revan want me for reason. All these years, no one miss me, now he does? Something important.'

Her long hair was loose about her, and Atton found himself getting a bit distracted. They were still in bed, and it was a late morning. Both were too emotionally exhausted to do anything but sleep the rest of the night, but even though it was only about three hours, both felt quite awake. Her feet pressed against his legs, though the rest of her body was not. He reached over to pull her close.

"Ungh," She uttered in protest, but did not fight him.

"Say my name," Atton urged.

'Atton.'

"No, _say _it, I want to hear you say it," Atton sucked in her earlobe. She twisted away this time.

'Atton, I serious.'

He let her go with a sigh.

"Jossa is not going to go away. She knows you're here, even if she doesn't know _you_."

'I mislead her.'

"How?"

'I need information.'

Atton sighed, reminding himself that Svana was no longer a nameless woman before he met her, but she had been a Jedi, a great general. It was not as hard as he thought it might be to connect the two people together, but the habit of assuming she needed to be taken care of was not a habit he would get rid of easily, if at all.

"Digging into Revan is only going to cause trouble. He's no longer the man you once knew. You've seen the news."

'I know,' She replied, 'But I still need know. There are ways I can know.'

"How? You're not going to _slice _into his network, are you? He'll catch you hacking like _that._"

'No,' Said Svana, 'But, I know someone, might be able to work with. I send message.'

Svana had never given any impression that she had any contacts whatsoever. She did not even seem too happy about making this contact.

"If it's a fellow Jedi," He warned, "This could go very badly for us."

Svana did not answer, which did not make him feel any better, but then she embraced him, and he felt her body against his and his lust stirred. By the Force, he had nearly lost her last night. He had not realized just how close it had been until he woke up this morning. With a swell of passion, he tugged her tight and kissed her.

He was going to make up for her deprived life as a Jedi with everything he had. He worked, hard, and it did not go unrewarded. With a gasp, Svana uttered her first moan, and it was the most beautiful sound in the world, even if she was deeply alarmed by it.

_You are just adorable,_ Atton thought, as he set out to get that sound out of her again and again and again.


	10. Chapter 9

The Silent Maiden

Chapter 9

The ship arrived on a cloudy day, and a variety of Republic representatives streamed from it. The Meerians watched with nervous wariness, unsure of their purpose here.

She saw Mical scan the crowd briefly, and his eyes landed on hers momentarily. He blinked, and then turned away from her view to face his companions. From his body posture, she could see that he was agitated, but that was because once she knew him very well. To someone like Jossa, there was not much difference.

The twi'lek had escaped the medcenter upon recovery, which was something she and Atton both anticipated. She had not approached Atton again, which could mean she was sufficiently intimidated, or was plotting vengeance. Atton thought it was both, and Svana was inclined to agree. She was hoping Mical might show, but she honestly was not sure if he even remembered her.

It seemed like he did, and it was ironic, because she found herself being the one hard-pressed to recognize him. It had been many years, and Mical was just a child when she left the Order. He has grown so much, he would tower over her now, and though his features were still familiar, they had morphed considerably. He was approaching full adulthood, and it showed from his developed shoulders, to the lowered timber of his voice when he spoke across the distance.

_"She's in the medcenter here," _Mical was saying to his superiors, who nodded at him. Svana had no idea who 'she' was supposed to be, or what he intended to do. Maybe he meant Jossa? She had sent him a message that summarized her situation, but warned him that the bounty hunter might be able to track what he did on arrival. The fact that he did not acknowledge her immediately proved that he understood what she meant, but how he wanted to justify coming here without bringing attention to her, she had no idea. Mical had never sent a reply. He simply came.

The officials moved away, leaving Svana to wonder with the Meerians what this was all about.

* * *

><p>The knock on her door came hours later, in the late afternoon.<p>

Svana was twisting the ring around her finger nervously. After listening to Atton's story and confiding in him, she had felt both relieved and agitated. She did not understand what kind of hatred one would require in order to do the things he did, but she had seen so many of her fellow Jedi slowly get corrupted by the dark side, she could not find it in herself to blame him for anything. Telling him what happened, finally trusting someone with her story, had released a burden she hardly knew she carried, but it also left her feeling frightened, lost, as if she were suddenly floating and had no idea where she was going. Atton seemed to feel the same way, but he was more assured than she was, not even discouraged when she felt too anxious to make love to him ever since that night.

And now Mical is here. The last time Mical saw her, she was a padawan, young and untainted by war. She had yet to make the awful choices she had. She wondered what he would think of her.

_Never mind that,_ She thought, _Whatever happens, Atton will still be here for you._ And that, ultimately, was her only assurance. Still, she could not help but wish for a little more than that.

"Hello," Mical was all-business, "Svana Rand, is it?"

She nodded.

"I'm here to talk to you about a twi'lek you rescued some time ago?"

"…" Svana stared blankly. _What is he up to?_

"May I…come in?" He asked.

She silently stepped aside to let him in. He looked around a little as she closed the door.

_He _is _taller than me._

Mical then turned his attention to her, still professional. "Were you home all day?"

Svana tried to speak, but it felt odd now to do so vocally. 'I saw you arrive. I came home after.'

Mical stared at her. "Are you hurt?" He asked. "Why…"

Svana lowered her eyes.

"There are no bugs here?" Mical whispered then.

Bugs? Did he mean hearing devices? Svana shook her head.

The young man's posture suddenly changed. He was exuding confidence earlier, but now he looked tense, nervous.

"Kylin," He raised his hand to the back of his head, "I came as soon as I could. You sounded like you were in danger, so I told them that one of Darth Revan's spies has shown up here, and we're here to retrieve her. Are you well? You were gone for so long, and no one would tell me where you went."

Svana stared at him, tears welling. She never use to be so weepy, but it _had _been so long since she saw Mical, the young, wide-eyed, sweet and trusting child who had declared adamantly that he wanted to be her padawan even when she was a padawan herself.

"Kylin?" Mical's eyes widened in concern, "Kylin, what's wrong?"

"N…" Svana swallowed, and signed, 'Nothing.' She wondered if he understood her. Tears finally shed, and she wiped at them quickly, before rushing forward and hugging him. Force, it had been so long!

Mical's arms came eagerly about her after only a moment's hesitation. "It's alright, Kylin," He sounded even more worried now, "It's alright. Are you alright? Are you hurt? Come, let's sit down. I have some time."

He led her to her own sofa, where he sat a platonic distance from her, checking her over visually.

"You're married," He said softly, looking at her ring.

She nodded, wondering what he was thinking.

"Does he treat you well?" Mical asked.

She nodded again. Atton treated her very well.

"That's good. Does he know about you?"

She nodded again.

"Alright. So he knows about Jossa, and Revan, and how Darth Revan wants you. We'll figure something out."

'Jossa is probably monitoring us,' She warned him. There were no bugs that Atton found, but that did not mean she was not monitoring the apartment complex.

Mical did understand sign language, even if he was a little slow. "I know." He stared at her, as lost as she was.

'How are you?' Svana asked, reaching to smooth his hair, 'Are you well?' He looked healthy, and not too miserable, even if he was a bit worried.

"I'm fine," Mical said, face too solemn to be sincere. "I've…I've wondered…what happened to you. I feared they killed you, somehow."

Svana ducked her head, feeling ashamed. When she left…she should have at least checked on Mical, though at the time she had been too heartsick to do anything but flee the home that evicted her.

Mical reached out to touch her arm. "It's alright. I'm glad you are well. We need to figure out why Revan is interested in you." His face became serious. "Is your husband willing to leave this planet?"

Svana frowned in thought. She would have to discuss this with Atton. 'How long?' She asked. 'Where we go?'

"I don't know how long," Mical replied, "But I want to take you with me to Coruscant."

'Revan might watch that planet,' Svana pointed out.

"Yes," Mical agreed, "But it's also the one place we might be able to find answers, or start to, anyway. There are records of the war that have no duplicate copies elsewhere, as well as the Republic's own findings since Revan's departure."

Svana thought for a moment.

'What do you sense?' Mical asked.

'I no feel Force,' Svana shook her head, 'I sense nothing.'

"…What?" The young man looked horrified. "—What? How is that—did the Council do this to you?" A look of outrage crossed the clear blue eyes. "How—how _dare _they?"

Svana grabbed his arm. 'No matter now,' She signed hurriedly, 'Better this way, better this way,'

"It's who you are!"

'No,' Svana shook her head emphatically, 'No, no who I am. I Svana now. No Jedi, no Force.' She gestured to her ring, and then to her heart. 'Am woman, just woman.'

"No." Mical still looked furious, but he also looked sad. "You're not just a woman, Kylin." He glanced away.

Svana moved around so he could see her. 'Calm, Mical, little one,' She signed, before resting her hand gently on his shoulder. 'I at peace.'

He stared at her other hand, and for a while the two were silent.

Atton palmed the door open.

"Svana?" He called out, "I'm home—" He jerked to a stop at the sight of their guest.

Svana smiled happily, and hurried to him to give him a kiss on the cheek. 'This is Mical,' She gestured, 'My old friend, old friend.'

"Old friend?" Atton looked unhappy for some reason, and looked at Mical with suspicion. "How old are we talking here?"

'We grew up together,' Svana signed, 'He still initiate when I left. Only this tall, now he taller than me! Nice, no?'

"Uh, yeah, that's nice, I guess. What's he doing here?"

"Kylin contacted me."

Atton scowled, seeming even more displeased by this. "I see."

Svana looked between the two of them in confusion. Mical remained wide-eyed and expressionless. His face was a little too blank, too innocent. Atton, on the other hand, seemed very peeved by the youth, stopping just short of glaring.

"What can this kid do, Svana?" He demanded.

"I work with Republic officials," Said Mical, "I came here under the pretense of investigating one of Revan's employees. Since she has escaped from the medcenter, once my colleagues have finished their work, I was thinking we can head to Coruscant and start our search there."

"Search for what, exactly?"

"Why Revan is looking for Kylin."

"You agreed to this?" Atton stared at Svana, his eyes still hard.

Frowning, Svana signed, 'Not yet. I told him, need talk to you first.'

"Yeah, okay. No." Atton was still wearing his jacket, so he took it off. "I have no interest in going to Coruscant, much less taking my wife there with _you_."

This bout of rudeness was hard to miss. 'Atton!'

"Unless we know why Darth Revan is after her, we have to assume he will keep trying. How long can you fend off this Jossa, sir?"

"As long as I need to, but I'm certainly not going to endanger my wife by taking her to the lion's den."

"I think you underestimate your wife, with all due respect, sir—"

"No, don't you go assuming I'm _underestimating my wife_, kid." Atton was suddenly nose-to-nose with Mical, and his entire being exuded hostility. "You don't get to decide what happens to her, understand?"

'Hey!' Svana waved, 'I speak for myself!' But the two were not looking at her.

"Do you always dictate your wife this way, sir?" Mical asked, his own features also twisting into an expression Svana had never seen on him before.

"Oh, that's rich. You think your past history with her has any standing while we're in my apartment?"

Svana slammed her hand on the table, startling both angry males into looking in her direction.

'What in the galaxy is wrong with you two?' She demanded, 'I no have fighting in _my _apartment! Sit down, now!'

Mical, use to taking orders from her, hastily complied. Atton looked like he was stunned by whatever expression she was wearing and took a little longer to obey, but eventually the two sat down, one on the couch and one on a stool nearby.

'I no want go to Coruscant,' She said, 'But no Force, so no know. You two, both more Force than me. I no can break tie. Mical, you train as Jedi—'

"I haven't used the Force in _years_," Mical frowned.

'What?' Svana blinked. 'Why?'

Mical glanced aside. "I just never felt like it," He replied quietly. "I don't think I remember how to use the Force."

_Oh…Force._ Svana rubbed the bridge of her nose. Atton certainly never had any training.

'Then we do this no Force. Coruscant has answers, is dangerous. Bandomeer no answers, is also dangerous. Looks like we go to Coruscant, like or no.'

"Svana, I have a _job_," Atton began,

'Then I go with Mical myself.'

"What? _No!_ By your_self?_" Atton glared at Mical. "Can this kid even _use _a blaster?"

"I've been called a crackshot," Mical said airily.

"Right. Because you shoot like you were on crack, I bet."

'Atton, he Jedi, you no were.'

"Svana, I use to—" Atton caught himself, which was a good thing because Svana had a feeling sweet-tempered Mical, who was looking as intimidating as she had ever seen him, might erupt if he ever learned who Atton use to be. "I can probably eat him for breakfast. How the kreth do you know sign language, anyway?"

Mical must have taken the courses—Svana had not kept such a keen track on him and his coursework, and frankly even if she did, it had been so long that she was due to forget anyway. She took a look between the two and decided that, as preposterous as it was, she knew what might be going on here. 'Husband, a word,' She gestured at their bedroom.

She had used the term on purpose, and the effect was gratifying; Atton instantly snapped to attention and she gave Mical a look as she followed her husband to their room.

'I do not like him,' He signed to her, switching to the language so that Mical could not eavesdrop.

'Mical is three years younger than me,' Svana signed back, 'When I left for war, he was eleven. When I went to exile, he was thirteen. Nothing he could do for me.'

"I know," Atton switched to vocal, "He's a punk, I'd be surprised if he could ever do _anything_."

'He like brother to me,' Svana entreated, 'I left him when he needed me. He wanted me to train him, but no can if go to war. I chose to leave. I abandoned him.'

'What, no one else could train him?' Atton signed back angrily.

'No one else understand him,' Svana said truthfully, 'He has soft heart, more than other children. This made him different. Atton, he like brother to me. I love him as brother I never had.'

"Brother, eh?" Atton muttered, before signing again, 'Well he certainly look at you more than as sister!'

It took a moment for Svana to realize she had been wrong—the situation was even _more _preposterous than she first thought. It took everything she had not to slap her forehead in exasperation.

'Why you jealous?' She exclaimed, baffled, 'He old friend, old lost brother, no competition for you. You my husband!'

'Well make sure you let _him_ know that!'

If he had been jealous of anyone else, Svana might have found this almost delightful, but she did care about Mical and hoped Atton would care for him too, and jealousy was not conducive to that.

Her husband sat down heavily on the bed, looked peeved. After a moment, she sat down next to him, musing on what could be going through his head.

'Mical no better than you,' She signed, and then squeezed his hand.

"Yeah," Atton whispered, and suddenly seemed vulnerable, "I bet he hasn't had several years of murder tucked in his closet."

'No,' Svana agreed, 'But no experience war, no understand our view of life. He is child. Force favors him, so he will always be child.'

Atton glared up at her. "You just wait. I'm three years older than you. As we all get older, all of the sudden that punk's not so much younger than you."

She kissed him as she considered how to answer her husband's insecurities. At least Atton was being forward with his feelings.

'You only see regret,' She said to him, 'You only see you ugly. You no see how beautiful I see you.'

"Yeah, you say that now, you were going to leave," And now her husband was the closest she had seen to tears since that night. "You certainly didn't think I was that beautiful then." He looked away to hide his face from her.

'I sorry,' Svana shook him gently so he would look at her again, 'I forgive you. I love you. I here now. Still your wife,' She raised her hand to show him the ring that was back around her finger. 'You stupid too. Should have told me about Jossa.' She kissed him. 'I here. I heard everything and I here. I no go away. Certainly not for Mical. I watched him pee himself when he was five, had to give him bath. Too strange.'

Atton seemed both much cheered and yet dismayed by the last point, making Svana wonder if he was going to bully the younger man with it.

"Well, make sure the brat knows his place."

'I will,' Svana chuckled, the sound soft enough that she was not too startled by it. Atton's eyes softened, and he kissed her on the lips, long and slow. Svana broke away first, because Mical was still waiting in the living room, but she allowed Atton to capture her hand and trail after her.

'Mical,' She signed, sliding her hand from Atton's grasp, 'This is my husband, Atton Rand. Show him same deference you would to me, treat him as older brother. Atton,' She turned to her husband, 'This is my little Jedi brother, Mical. Take care of him as you would your own little brother.'

She could tell, despite everything, the two were not going to be too loving of one another. Mical wore a pinched look, and Atton had a slight sneer, but at least they were not insulting each other. After a moment, the younger man bowed a little.

"Well met, husband of my sister," He stated.

"Hi," Atton blinked.

A very awkward silence fell.

'Coruscant?' Svana inquired.

"Yeah, I'm going with," Atton glared at her to show he was serious.

Svana mentally sighed, even as Mical looked like he bit into something sour. _This was going to be an adventure,_ she thought, and found herself calling up old memories of how she dealt with frustrated soldiers under her command during the wars. Somehow, she had a feeling this time would be infinitely harder.


	11. Chapter 10

The Silent Maiden

Chapter 10

For someone who led many men to battle, his wife was curiously ignorant about men. Just because she told them to get along did not mean they would, and just because she thought of Mical as a little brother and might have had to change him when he was little, did not mean the brat did not still admire her behind her back and watch her with adoring eyes. Atton was pretty aware of what a catch Svana was, and so was Mical, which was not unreasonable, but while the former assassin was more comforted than he expected by his wife's assurances, he could not fathom what it was Svana saw in him. Mical was, he had to admit to himself begrudgingly, handsome, even if rather young and not quite fully matured. He had all the features of a fine man, had that stupid cultured accent and gentlemanly mannerisms that frankly probably fit Svana better than his own scoundrel persona. Sure, the runt was seventeen years old, but in a year he would be eighteen, and then nineteen, and then twenty, while his own wife truthfully looked like a girl in her sweet sixteens even after Atton banged her. Mical and Kylin just…made more sense than Atton and Svana.

It did not help that the twerp thought pretty much the same of the situation, even if his reactions were much more refined than Atton's. He had taken to ignoring Atton at every opportunity, but that gesture was one that was tinged with awareness. Jaq had been in enough situations where Jedi Masters pretended to ignore his presence just to catch him off guard, and he had to learn how to differentiate when his prey was actually oblivious or just feigning it. Mical was definitely the latter, and he did not have the years a Jedi Master had to even hope to improve his acting skills.

_Use the wires,_ Jaq whispered in his mind, _Electrocute him. She will never know._

It had been months since Jaq spoke in his head.

_There are so many things on this ship we can use,_ the assassin in him continued. They were on their way to Coruscant on one of the Republican freighters. Mical had snuck them on board the ship with him after talking to his superiors, and as far as Atton could tell, Jossa was unaware they had left Bandomeer. Still, she could follow after—it is hard to miss that the couple disappeared from the planet as soon as the Republican freighters departed from the system. _So many ways to kill a man and no one would know it was murder…_

But he could not do that to Svana, as much as he did not really care about Mical. Svana had stayed, Svana had forgiven him, he could not let her down.

Svana was exasperated with them both, which was perhaps not surprising. She did seem oblivious of the fact that Mical was attracted to her—older sister's blind spot, perhaps, and usually chastised Atton to be more civil. Still, at nights there was no arguing who she slept with, so Atton had that much. Mical could go off himself and stick with imagining…actually, if that twerp even dared, Atton was _so _letting Jaq free rein—

* * *

><p>'Coruscant,' Svana signed, 'Only been here once, see council,' She leaned against Atton, looking out at the vast metropolis twinkling even as they were entering the atmosphere, some of the taller skyscrapers peeking out past the clouds. 'Never see rest of planet. Should take advantage and go touring.'<p>

He wrapped an arm around her, wondering what phantom pains she was feeling, but when he looked at her face, her expression was content.

She wanted a _tour_. Did Jedi even tour? It occurred to Atton that however guilty she had felt, his wife probably preferred life with him than life as a Jedi. It was a very happy thought.

'We can,' He signed to her, 'We check out all the sites, see anywhere you want.'

She beamed at him, looking like a child with candy, and Atton remembered her tearful description of Jedi mentality, how they looked at the rest of the galaxy and longed for the things everyone else had. He could kind of see why Svana did not really want to feel the Force again.

The couple looked into each other's eyes for a moment, but then Mical walked in, breaking in almost rudely.

"Ahem," He cleared his throat, "We're landing in a few minutes, Kylin. You should strap in."

'Thanks, Mical,' Svana signed.

Atton scowled. "He still calls you Kylin."

Svana punched him. 'You are hopeless.'

"Yeah yeah…"

* * *

><p>The noise of Coruscant hit them as soon as they exited to the landing pad. Atton felt disoriented, partially by the cacophony of the numerous ships and the sounds of the city, but also by the sheer weight of the Force flooding his senses. Svana looked a little lost, but not nearly as affected as he was. He wondered if it was because she could no longer sense the Force.<p>

Mical spoke to his superiors first before calling the two of them over. "My apartment is down that way," He said to Svana.

'We find inn,' Svana signed.

Mical paused at this, while Atton secretly rejoiced. "They're a bit expensive," The blonde pointed out.

'Only stay a little while,' Svana told him, 'Should be okay.'

"If you say so," Mical hesitated, "Really, it's probably better if you stay with me. There's room. Those inns charge a lot."

'No," Svana was adamant, 'If stay too long, inconvenient. Better have our own. We can stop by your place. I want to see your place, then we find inn.'

That was a fair compromise, Atton allowed, and Mical wisely agreed to it. His speeder was stationed in a parking lot, and the three of them flew to his apartment complex.

Mical's apartment looked very much like the home of the bachelor that he was, making Atton think of the tasteful butterfly curtains and the little knick-knacks that adorned his own home. _Sucks to be you, kid._ Never mind that his own home was probably worse before he met Svana—the point was, _he had her now,_ and Mical did not, even if the brat met her before Atton even knew she existed.

The boy brewed them some tea. Atton did not drink any, but Svana took some while Mical turned on his holocomputer.

"There's no place that's really cheap, so to speak," Mical told them, "But here are a few manageable locations. Let me check the comments…"

Svana looked over his shoulder, while Atton gritted his teeth and restrained himself from pulling her away from him. Better have Svana keep an eye on Mical, in case he decided to send them someplace ratty. He knew Svana use to tolerate such conditions before, considering where she had been living when he first met her, but that did not mean _he _would condone it. Svana was now his wife. That Mical better watch himself.

"What do you think?" Mical asked after a moment. Svana nodded her head emphatically, prompting Atton to walk over. It was a decent inn, the prices manageable, though Atton was going to have to work some extra hours once they get back to Bandomeer.

"Alright then," He said to the blonde and could not help but smirk, "We'll just be going now."

'Can you fly us there?' Svana asked.

"Certainly," Mical nodded, avoiding Atton's gaze.

* * *

><p>The couple took a nap once they settled at the inn. Atton was the first to wake, and he roused Svana by loving her, pleased because for the first time since meeting the blonde, he had her all to himself. Svana reacted to this with some fond exasperation, but she went along with it, smiling through their kisses and surprising him with her clever hands.<p>

She wanted to go out and explore the neighborhood, so she rose afterwards to brush her hair.

'Need to cut it,' She declared, as she examined the split ends. It was trailing past her waist and was slightly tangled.

"I like it long," Atton protested.

She looked uncertainly at her hair. 'Good stylists on Coruscant, never tried as Jedi. Always wondered.'

Atton laughed. His Svana was indulging in some vanity, it seems. "Did you have your hair short or long before?"

'I was padawan," Svana pointed out, 'Short, with padawan braid.'

"Don't cut it. You're not a padawan now."

'I no get padawan haircut!' She wrinkled her nose. 'I get holomovie star haircut.'

"I like it long!" Atton whined. "Don't cut it!" He made a sad face at her.

Svana giggled, blinking at herself when she heard her voice come out like bells. She needed to get over that. At some point, Atton wanted her to stop signing most of the time.

'But first, business,' She said, 'May want to visit temple. Come with?'

* * *

><p>They took a cab to the central district where the Jedi Temple faced the Senate building. Svana had decorated her hair a little and put on one of her nice clothes, looking nothing like the long lost Jedi Exile that she was. The Jedi themselves paid them no attention as they stood in front of the steps to gaze upon the tall structure.<p>

Atton had to admit, as much as he hated Jedi (with the exception of one very special someone), the temple was a marvelous structure, soothing to the eyes and calming to the heart. He heard the Jedi Enclave was similar, and imagined his Svana growing up in a place like this, only to be cast out from it for doing what she felt was right. He hugged her as they both considered the building.

Several Jedi emerged from the entrance.

"I want all forces concentrated on the main ship," A human female Jedi was saying, "Deflect the other ships only for the purposes of getting them out of the way so you can attack the main ship. Make sure you are only in one direction—I don't want his ship spinning around chasing you, so if your pilots—" She drew up short, staring at Svana in amazement.

"Well," She exclaimed. "What do we have here."

She sounded imperious and hostile enough that Atton pulled Svana closer to him. The woman was beautiful in her own way, older than Svana and very regal, but in a cold, icy way. She sprouted two dark pigtails, but the juvenile hairdo somehow did nothing to detract from her intimidating look.

Svana glanced at her once, seeming to appraise her, before turning her head away to regard the temple again.

"Don't do that," The Jedi stalked forward, "I know you heard me. I thought you were in exile." Her companions glanced at each other, obviously not recognizing Svana the way she did. "You have a lot of nerve, coming back here."

"Is this how all Jedi talk to people?" Atton pulled his wife close. "Thought they were supposed to teach you guys _some _negotiation skills, at least."

Svana did not respond, her face an emotionless mask.

"Do you know her?" He asked her gently.

'Shan,' Svana signed. 'Bastila Shan.'

Bastila Shan stopped in front of the two of them, just out of range for Atton to punch her in the face. She seemed to realize something was wrong, because a long silence fell before she asked, "What happened to you?"

"Wandered around for three years after you Council cast her out like she was trash," Atton replied, while his wife remained motionless, "Nearly died of infection. Met yours truly," He cupped the side of Svana's head. "Though if all the Jedi were like you, getting cast out seriously isn't a bad thing."

Shan narrowed her eyes. "They took away your Force sensitivity, didn't they?"

"It's really none of your business," Atton replied.

"It's interesting that you keep talking for her," The Jedi glared at him.

"'They' took away her voice too." _You schutta._

Shan seemed speechless at this.

"Don't you have somewhere to be?" Atton sneered. "Some ship to attack, or something? What do you care if Svana shows up on Coruscant anyway? She has as much of a right to be here as anyone else. Just because you folks cast her out from the Order doesn't mean she's banned from _civilization_."

"No, but she hasn't shown up for all these years," Shan stared at Svana again. "What are you two doing here?"

"None of your business."

"I'm asking _Kylin—_or whatever you're calling her—"

"She can't _talk_, you imbecile—"

'Revan is after me,' Svana signed, 'No know why.'

Shan blinked at this; apparently all Jedi knew sign language or something. "You were his pet. Surprising that he waited so long, to be honest. You were the only one who got away from him."

Atton was _this _close to stepping forward and punching the Jedi—Force-sensitive or not, he had been Jaq before, and right now Jaq was screaming at him to defend his wife (which was curious in of itself, since Jaq was not the protective type), but something about the way the woman looked at Svana gave him pause.

'I no Force now,' Svana signed. 'No know why Revan wants me, but no defense either.'

To his surprise, Shan heaved a sigh, looking irritated.

"For crying out loud," She muttered, "They shouldn't have done that. The Council—you were just a padawan, and you didn't even fall." She shook her head to herself, and then appeared to think for a moment.

Svana turned to him while the Jedi pondered. 'She was Revan's friend.'

'Why she Jedi then?' He asked. It was not fair that Svana got cast out and this Shan did not, not that he was complaining. Much. Only in the sense that Svana was hurt by it all.

'She no go to war,' His wife clarified.

The other Jedi who were with Shan had moved closer.

"What is going on?" One of them asked.

"A new problem," Shan looked annoyed. "I don't know where you're staying, Kylin, or whatever you're calling yourself, but keep low for now." She stepped closer. "We're on our way to accost Darth Revan and Darth Malak. Force willing, the issue will be resolved before you even have to worry about any of this. I'd ask you to come along," She hesitated, looking grim, "But perhaps the Council did you a favor, in this regard. You seem to have done well by yourself."

Atton hugged his wife close as Shan looked up at him, and he suddenly felt the presence of another mind brushing against his own.

_Sith take the lot!_ He thought angrily, ready to draw up pazaak cards, but Bastila Shan withdrew as quickly as she had intruded.

"A fellow Force-sensitive too," She observed, "But your future…it is clouded."

It was Svana's turn to be defensive. 'He no Jedi,' She signed, 'No power to be seduced.'

That was a bit of a lie, but it was no business of Shan's, either way. The obnoxious woman continued staring at him, even though she was no longer trying to read his mind, or whatever she had been doing.

"You've had enough training to know the signs, Kylin," She said to his wife. "As long as he cares for you. You are no longer a Jedi, and have no need to follow the Code."

"That's right," Atton said acerbically, sick of her judgmental attitude.

Svana reached out to take Shan's hands, surprising the other woman, though Shan did a lot to hide it.

'Force be with you,' She let go to sign, and then reached out to hug her.

Bastila Shan was awkward about it, but she did hug back. "You idiot padawan," She muttered, "Stick close to the temple. I wouldn't go to the Council about this, but if this mission fails, he might still come for you, Force-sensitive or no. I'm sure you're wily enough to get the information you need if that happens."

Svana smiled, though tears leaked from her eyes.

"And you take care of her," Shan waved at Atton absently, "In case I make it back." She did not seem to find it necessary to make sure he understood her, walking away as she spoke, but then Atton had been doing little else other than protecting Svana since meeting the woman.

What a strange character.

'Bastila is softie,' Svana signed to Atton as the other confused Jedi followed Shan away to their ships, 'Puts on show, but softie inside. Thought she might hate me, glad she no hate.'

_Yeah,_ Atton decided, watching as the Jedi powered up their ships, _I can see how she's soft on the inside. Maybe. She's still very annoying._ Jaq would have loved to put someone like her in her place. _But she is Svana's friend…sort of._

Maybe the Jedi were more complicated than he thought.

* * *

><p>Svana wanted to go inside the temple to search for other Jedi she had known, but Atton suddenly had that <em>bad <em>_feeling_—the same one when he sensed Svana might have figured out about Jossa and was planning on leaving him, and the one that had never failed to warn him that something bad was indeed about to happen.

When he was by himself, with only his own life to look out for, he usually reacted by making a mental note and plunging ahead anyway. Jaq was not a minor enemy, and he could survive scrapes—it was what assassins did, and he was a good assassin.

Svana was not really a pushover either, but there seemed to be more at stake. The Jedi had hurt her, and they could twist the blade even more. In addition, Bastila Shan's almost idle comment that they should not go to the Council about this rang with the kind of resonance that alarmed him.

Cowards run away to live another day.

So despite her protests, he dragged his unhappy wife back to the hotel.

'I think I know them better than you!' Svana signed to him in irritation.

"Yeah," Said Atton, "But for some reason you look up to them. We call that sort of thing a 'blind spot', get it? I don't think we're going to keep being as lucky as we have been with blondie and that ice princess."

'Jedi no evil! No idea where you have this idea—'

"Sweetheart," He grabbed her face, "Just because I'm not a Jedi doesn't mean I haven't worked with some, alright? Just trust me for once." It was not a fair statement, considering that Svana was trusting him a lot lately, especially ever since she learned about his past, but his wife did not seem to notice. "My gut instinct is telling me to wait, to keep back, and by the _Force_, Svana, it's usually right."

She pulled away, rubbing her face in distress.

'Fine,' She signed after a while, 'No up front, but no sit and wait either. If I wait here, will you investigate for me?'

"Alright." It did not seem like anything, but for Atton, that comment was just like a tactician, using resources available in the most efficient way possible. He would be a fool to believe that his wife had forgotten what he use to be, but that she trusted him enough to resort to this, to remember he had skills and be alright with him using them again—it warmed the heart.

'Go with Mical,' She then said, which instantly killed his spirits.

"Really?" He whined. "_Blondie?_" Being a husband, as it turned out, is sort of a paradox—on one hand he felt a strong urge to protect his wife, but on the other hand he sort of felt like she was his mother and he was a child again.

'He know temple, use to be there, good gatekeeper,' Svana signed, meaning that Mical could smooth his entry to the temple and cut through a lot of red tape just by virtue of being a former initiate. He could not argue with that logic, but still…'He good boy! You so crazy.'

"_Ugh…_"

* * *

><p>Mical was good at cutting red tape. The kid was actually quite crafty. He looked all innocent and everything, but that head of his was unfortunately not filled with air.<p>

"You don't befriend someone like Kylin and not take away a few things," He remarked with disinterest when Atton sneered out this observation. Around them, the Jedi Masters seemed to be preparing to go somewhere, and once they realized Mical was only here to look at some records from a war that was well over, they went back to whatever they were doing without paying the two men any attention.

"Apparently," Atton grimaced. "You two must not have been too close, if you keep calling her 'Kylin'."

"She called me Mical," The blonde said breezily, "I was just always respectful."

They went to the archivist, who remarked on how much Mical had grown before going away to retrieve records.

"She use to be at the Dantooine Enclave," He said to Atton, "Kylin would sneak cookies into the library. She use to get so mad. She's changed a lot, Kylin."

"Yeah, fighting a war and then getting kicked out by one's family would do that to a person."

"I really wish she had come to me," Mical sighed, "I mean…I was young, true, but I was still fourteen. I could have done something. She didn't need to spend all those years by herself."

"What could _you _do?" Atton exclaimed ungenerously, "She lost the _Force_. I doubt she wanted anything to do with Force-sensitives, much less you. You wanted to _learn _from her."

"That's true," Mical conceded, "Perhaps she felt inadequate, but still…not all of us agree with the Council. There was discord, you know, in the Order—at that point I was no longer part of it, but I still had some connections. Shortly after she left for war, there was a great massacre—it's all hushed up now, but some obscure division of Jedi Masters slaughtered almost all of the padawans. Kylin might have been one of them, had she stayed, so going to war—saved her life, and saved my life as well; I don't think I would have been spared had I been a padawan at that point, so her leaving and forcing me to leave saved both of our lives."

_Just like the Jedi—hypocrites_, Atton thought, even as he swallowed his astonishment. He never heard of any padawan purge, and the idea that Svana had nearly been a victim of it—the Force _did _work in mysterious ways.

"But when she was cast out, there was talk, too. None of us knew what happened to her, but everyone knew there was this padawan who came back, and the Council threw her out, and even the conservative masters outside the Council thought it was over the top—she was a padawan, a fourteen-year-old at that when she first left, and she came back—Jedi punish disobedience, true, but she _came back_. At the time I tried to accost Kavar, who was her master before she left, and he gave me the impression that something is going on, more than what it seemed. They gave the impression that she had sinister plans in returning, or something, that she had actually fallen and the Council cast her out because of that, but then she just left, and everyone thought that was just…strange."

"Ever occur to you that maybe your council was just filled with schuttas?"

"Of course it did," Mical looked at him with hard eyes, "Why else do you think I'm keeping Kylin's presence quiet?"

The archivist returned. "Here we are," She said to Mical, handing him a case of chips, "That is everything. Let me know if you need anything else."

"Yes Master," Mical inclined his head, suddenly the epitome of what Atton assumed to be a respectful padawan, or former padawan, anyway. "I'll return these to you once we're done."

* * *

><p>"What was her relationship to Revan?" Atton asked when they looked over the files. There was absolutely nothing about Kylin, which was even worse than what Jossa gave him. Mical was trying to logically assemble what might have been left out based on the data they did have.<p>

"There wasn't much of one," The blonde's voice was a bit distracted, "He was more than ten years older than her."

_Oh. Well, yeah, I knew that._

"She was pretty famous though," Mical went on, "Her lightsaber skills were tremendous. Everyone wanted her as a padawan, she eventually chose Kavar." He sighed. "Do you know how absurd that is? A padawan choosing her master. It's always the other way around."

"This Kavar didn't vouch for her at all when she faced the Council?"

"He was _on _the Council."

_Bastard. _His own padawan, and he did not even defend her.

"In any case, it wouldn't be surprising if Revan knew of her before the war." Mical scrolled down on the computer. He looked back and forth suddenly, and produced a chip from the folds of his tunic.

_Sneaky son of a…_ Atton also produced a chip and slid it to the man. Mical accepted it without a word.

"Did she have any other friends at all?" Atton asked.

"As far as we know, everyone else fell," Mical said ominously, even as he copied the files, "At least any friends from the war. Here…she was the youngest of us to go. Masters blamed it on her pride and over-confidence—everyone else was too cowed to disobey the Council."

"What do you think?"

"I don't know. She was fourteen, and she wasn't a fool. Only an idiot would do something like that out of pride. She went because she had ability, but it was hard for her. She left many friends."

Atton folded his arms. "Including you?" He drawled.

Mical's eyes grew distant. "I wasn't the only initiate she had associated with. There were others."

"Well she contacted _you_. Why not someone else?"

"I don't know. Why don't you ask her?" Mical took Atton's chip to copy the files as well. "There's something very odd about the end of the war."

Atton knew this, but he played dumb. "Oh?"

"Malachor V was the only site of action," Mical pulled up the map of the galaxy, "There were skirmishes around these areas here and here and here, but they were small—the other Jedi were dispatched all over here on this side but they saw no activity for a long time. There were no Mandalorians reported either." Mical frowned. "Why did Revan do that? He sent Kylin all by herself to the most important battle of the war. After that, he pulled his team out to the Unknown Regions without even cleaning up the remaining skirmishes."

"It was a setup, genius," Atton drawled, "The only question is for _what_."

Mical pulled up the log of Revan's movements. "After Malachor V…when he was heading out to the Unknown Regions, supposedly he made a stop here, based on hyperspace trails…this is around the region of Korriban. They've said they suspect this was when he first started falling, or showed signs of."

The two fell silent for a moment.

"Kylin should take a look at this," Mical murmured.


	12. Chapter 11

The Silent Maiden

Chapter 11

_That conniving bastard,_ Svana felt rage well up inside her and she gripped the edges of the table so that her knuckles were white. She _can _feel anger—there was no Force to draw the Dark Side to her, and _Force_, it was intolerable, that Revan could do this to her men. _Millions _of lives, lost, and for what? _Liar, murderer_, there were no words in any language that could describe how despicable he was.

She inhaled a shaky breath as Atton pressed his face against hers in an effort to calm her, but even so, her rage spilled over and she pounded the desk next to the keyboard before shooting out of the chair to walk it off.

"Kylin," Mical reached out to her, disturbed by the sight of her, but Atton stepped in to shield her from him and she put the boy out of her mind. Mical could not possibly understand. Mical is still a child, will probably always be a child. Force willing, he will always be that sweet boy with such a bright view of life, but for now, he had no say. No say at all.

She had no idea how long she spent, stewing in her fury as the two men watched, Atton's face grim and Mical nervous and worried. Outside, dusk was setting, and the city lit its lights as if trying to replicate the starry sky that the skies were not black enough to show.

'Why?' She finally lashed out, 'Why? For what? Why do that? No sense.' She thought back to the days when she use to consult with Revan, how Revan had always kept her secret; she always assumed that it was because he was protecting her, in his own way, because a public general was more of a target than a secret one. Though Revan had accepted her as a member of the defense effort, Svana knew that he always agreed somewhat with Alek that she was young. She was too young, even when she left and the war ended. His protectiveness, or appearance of, had not irked her as much back then, because a secret general was in many ways much more influential than a public one, and his protection seemed borne of affection and loyalty to a fellow Jedi. She would have been mad to reject that sentiment; there was so little affection between Jedi, any bit of it was such a blessing, and besides, for all her determination to prove her worth, her maturity, her independence, there were limits, after all, and compromises, and at least Revan never forbid her from doing anything just because of her youth.

He probably should have though.

He should have...

It made no sense.

To think, she had looked up to Revan. Revan had been the star of the Jedi Order, the one with great talent and great promise, the one everyone hailed would be among the greatest Jedi Masters of all time. As a padawan, she had known his name, and even when she faced him in person, determined to do her part to defend the galaxy despite what others might say, part of her had been cowed. Revan was a living legend. Who was she, but a small, insignificant young padawan who merely had a slight talent for lightsabers? She had been so thrilled when Revan had stated to Alek that she could defeat them both in a duel with her eyes closed, because the truth was Kylin had always felt Revan was the best. To be regarded as such by such a great Jedi Knight...

She had looked up to him, she had always respected him, had in some ways depended on him for approval, when battles did not go the way she wanted, when her men suffered more losses than she could handle. He was never a close friend, never said much to her, but what little he said had always been encouraging. _You did well. You fought well. Good work, General. Good work._

_Good work._

Yet even _Revan _had sinister motives in the end. Did he always plan on using her? Was he...was he always dark?

Yet what was the point of sending her and her men with such poor odds? What could this possibly accomplish?

Falling back on her mentality as a general, Svana tried to reason this out. What was Revan like, before he sent her to Malachor? They had all been hardened by the brutality of war, but was he different somehow? He did seem to talk a bit about the Jedi Council. The Council this, the Council that, though never exactly what. Since Kylin had already resigned to being rejected by the Council when she left for war, she had not thought much of it, had not anticipated that the Jedi Council factored anymore to the war. As long as Revan never said "The Jedi Order will come to our aid," they were irrelevant to her.

The interesting thing was...they had been irrelevant to Revan too, until the time period leading up to Malachor V.

_The Council had something to do with this._

_I wouldn't go to the Council about this,_ Bastila had said. It had confused Svana when the older Jedi warned her to keep low, instead of going to the Council Masters. Bastila had always been a strict follower of the Code, and even when she disagreed with some of the Council's decisions, she usually deferred to them anyway. It was not that she thought the Council was mainly right, it was that she felt as a Jedi, she was obligated to abide by the Council's decisions, whether they were correct or not, and in a way Bastila was right; if everyone simply did what they judged best rather than form a cohesive unit, there would be no Jedi Order to speak of.

Svana was no longer a Jedi, though. Bastila had made a point of emphasizing that she was no longer required to follow the Code. She could marry, she could have children, she could love...she could question the Council and most of all, she no longer needed to be loyal.

She could do what Bastila could not.

_You once went against the Council,_ Svana reminded herself, _Because you thought they were wrong. What if they were not just wrong, they had the wrong motives?_ If a mere padawan could see that staying out of war would doom millions of lives, it was ridiculous to assume that the Council Masters, in their greater wisdom and experience, could simply ignore that. Something else must have been at work.

_What could be more important than saving lives?_

After fighting in the war...everyone else had turned dark. What if this was not just a natural result of war, but something else? Was there something about the Mandalorian war that the Jedi Order had feared, but had been unable to articulate? Something that Revan had reacted to?

What if there had been a dark force at work all along?

Atton's arms circled around her, and she realized she had been standing still for a while. He was warm and real and it felt good to feel him around her.

"If I'd known you'd react this way I wouldn't have been so careless about showing this to you," He murmured, kissing her on the temple. "I actually thought you would feel better, knowing it was not your fault."

She did, in a way. She wished she could have prevented it, but it was always nicer to have someone else to blame. Svana was not above that.

"What do we do now?" Mical asked.

Atton suddenly tensed, and his arms tightened around her.

"Shh!" He hissed when Mical tried to speak. Mical also seemed a little alarmed, and pulled out his blaster. Svana felt unusually useless, as she was the only one without a weapon.

Atton suddenly pulled her down to the floor just as the window shattered from a blaster bolt. Mical returned fire instantly.

"Jossa," Atton growled, but kept his arms around her when Svana tried to rise, "Stay down!"

Mical shot three more times but seemed dissatisfied. "She covered herself. Typical."

"The authorities are going to make this even better," Atton remarked, still holding her down.

"I'll handle them. You get Kylin out of here. Walk as if you don't know what just happened."

Svana was getting annoyed at how Atton was manhandling her, but he maneuvered her from the room without giving her much chance to think, and they were soon outside before anyone knew what was happening. He ducked into a building across the street, pulling her close as they entered the lobby. The security guard gave them a puzzled look but ignored them when Atton took out his comm. link.

'What you doing?' Svana tried to look out, but Atton tugged her back.

'Pretending I am making a call,' He signed, 'Stay with me.'

'I take care of myself before!' Svana signed in irritation, 'No need shove me around!'

"I'm sorry," He pressed a kiss on her forehead, but she was not in the mood for it.

'I go out.' She brushed past him. She could be quick too, if she put her mind to it, and even Atton's assassin reflexes could not stop her.

"Svana, wait!"

It was dark by now, though the artificial lights made everything bright enough that if one stared only at the ground, one would think it were a cloudy afternoon. For all that, however, the streets were bizarrely empty, and even without the Force, she knew something was horribly wrong.

The air shimmered near her and she dodged a vibrospear, calling on reflexes honed through three years of surviving without the Force. She spun and kicked at the air but her foot struck someone's neck and she heard bone crack. A dark figure snapped into view as he collapsed on the pavement, his stealth generator fizzing from the impact.

"Svana!"

She fell to the side to allow Atton's blaster bolt to sail past. It hit another attacker, but her hand touched an invisible boot. She rolled out of the way as something struck where she once was. How many of them were there?

"Svana, run!"

She managed to flip to her feet despite having no Force to aid her, and did just as Atton said. Behind her, her husband tried to impede her assailants, but she still heard the soft steps of booted feet as they gave chase. There were at least three of them, she could hear. She leaped and bounced off the wall, hearing the clang of vibroblade against brick as it missed, and swept her hand out where she knew one stealth belt was. It cracked against the side of her palm and another man shimmered into view.

_Who are these people?_ Jossa's allies? More servants of Revan? She jumped, propelling herself up from his shoulders and heard the sickening sound of blade against flesh as someone sliced through the him. Blood splattered as she flipped upside down and stained the cement. She reached out blindly and grabbed a wrist in each hand and held them apart as she landed, before arching into another backflip. She heard two thumps, crouched down to grab the first one's vibroblade and raised it to block another invisible assailant.

In a whir, she blocked and parried and stabbed, before twisting under one slash and darting away to give herself more room. The way ahead of her was dark now; it was an old alley, with garbage bins stacked on the sides. She whipped her head around, wondering if there was a way to go back; if this was a dead end, she was doomed.

A pair of arms suddenly wrapped around her as she hit a strong, hard chest. Heart plummeting, she looked back ahead and saw black robes, nearly right in her face. Slowly, she tilted her eyes up.

Brown eyes flicked with yellow with shadows underneath. Grey skin lined with fine scars, wrinkled and aged. Dark hair loose and wild, up to his shoulders. Cracked lips. The smell of garbage had obscured his odor, but up close she could detect the scent of decay.

_Dark Sider!_

He was no one she had ever seen before; she knew the Dark Side altered appearances, but there was nothing recognizable about him, so he certainly could not have been one of the Jedi who defected from the Order. Even without the Force, there was a shadow over him, a heavy threat that made her heart pound and race like a tiny rodent's. She was up close against him, his arms still around her in something like an embrace, but it was a tenuous hold that could turn lethal without warning, especially since she was only as good as any non-sensitive and he had the power of the Force within him.

Her assailants arrived, but they pulled to a halt at the sight of the two of them. Her current captor's face was unreadable, while Svana could feel her stomach churn. She was sandwiched, either way. Escape might not be possible.

She had to try, though.

With a jerk, Svana yanked her knee up to collide with where it would hurt him most. He grunted, looking nowhere as affected as another man would, but his arms loosened and she took advantage of that to twist her wrist and slice the vibroblade upwards. This time he fully let go, and she spun away to parry and block the other assailants. There was an ominous hum of a lightsaber and she rolled under the clash of blades to emerge on the other side of her foes, toward escape.

Dashing proved fruitless, for the Dark Sider merely leaped over everyone and landed, robes flapping and red blade thrumming as he used it to block her way.

"So," He said quietly, in a voice raspy like an old man's, "You are the esteemed Jedi Exile. I had expected more."

She heard the whiz of a vibrosword and ducked to avoid it. Her own weapon was no match for the lightsaber, so she had no idea how she was going to escape this situation alive. Without the Force to draw for strength, her stamina was also starting to give, and after successfully stabbing but not seriously injuring one assailant and stumbling back from the others, she whirled back and forth at the standstill, breathing heavily and watching for anyone else to make a move.

So far, the Dark Sider had yet to actually attack her. She had no idea what that meant.

"Even without the Force," He noted, "You fight well." He sounded almost approving. "Perhaps it is no wonder, after all. I wonder..." He slowly advanced, and strangely her assailants, who must have been his apprentices of some sort, retreated from her to give her room with their master, "How you would be, if you do have the Force." He paused. "Perhaps it is better that you don't."

Her hair was loose, and the wind whipped her dress so that the skirts slapped against her ankles. He adjusted his grip on his lightsaber, but did not move to strike.

Svana also adjusted her grip, despairing at the situation. She needed the Force. She needed the Force to get out of this alive. Atton needed her, Atton, who had committed atrocities but still had so much good in him, what would he do if she were gone? Would he lose all hope? She did not want him to fall into that black pit of hopelessness, become a monster who no longer cared about life and could no longer find joy. Her husband needed her, it would kill him if she were to die. She had to survive somehow!

Suddenly, there was a whisper, faint and almost unfamiliar, brushing against her mind and twisting her arm so that she hit the hilt of the lightsaber that descended without her even seeing it, parrying the whole blade to the side. Another strike, too fast for the human eye to see, for the human ear to hear, but she parried that too, also exactly on the hilt where the lightsaber blade would not burn through her weapon. Confused, but not willing to test her chances if her reflexes failed her, she kicked out, catching her opponent in the groin again. He did not even falter, but she managed to dodge her head as he sliced down, avoiding a near beheading. The red blade cut through some of her hair.

"Good," Said the Dark Sider, and inexplicably shut his lightsaber off. A cold touch, dark and toxic, slid down her cheek as if a hand were caressing her. "There is yet more to you, it seems. In that case...we shall meet again."

A sudden Force push rammed her into a wall, the impact knocking the vibroblade from her hand. She gasped for the breath that was knocked from her lungs and rapidly blinked the stars from her vision, but by the time it cleared, her assailants were gone.

She slid down the wall despite trying to remain upright and uselessly moved her wobbly limbs as Atton ran into the alley.

"Svana?" He cried out, looking around before he saw her, and hurried to her side. "Oh Force, Svana? Are you hurt?"

She was covered with blood, though none of it was hers.

'Sith,' She managed to gesture with shaking hands.

"It's alright," Atton gently lifted her as easily as if she were a doll, "It's alright, whoever they were...where did they go?"

'Gone,' She signed to him, "Were Sith.'

He stared at her. "Sith?" He seemed to finally understand, "You were attacked by Sith? Where did they go then?"

'No know," Svana shook her head, 'Gone now."

Suddenly needing reassurance, she wrapped her arms tightly around her husband's neck. He was so warm and alive, and his Force presence...it was the first time she had ever felt his Force presence, and even though there were large of it that were dulled, marred, tainted by his lingering anger and hatred from long ago, it was still beautiful and loving and filled with safety in a way she had never sensed from any other person, even Kavar. Atton was here. She was safe. She was home.

Atton squeezed her tightly and kissed her on the cheek.

"It's alright," He said, quieter, "It's alright, they're gone now."


	13. Chapter 12

The Silent Maiden

Chapter 12

When in doubt, go to a cantina, because there were all sorts of odd people there and it makes it harder for snipers to get to their target. Atton herded his wife to the back, moving through people who were too drunk to notice the bloodstains. He sat her down facing the wall and ordered something hot. Though cantinas were more equipped with hard beverages than regular food, this one did boast some hot soups, and even if they tasted less than stellar, it would do Svana some good to have something in her after everything that had happened.

It did not escape his notice that she suddenly had a Force presence; it was Atton's job to notice these things, after all, but he did not comment on it yet. Her Force signature was every bit as beautiful as she was, perhaps even more so. It was so pure and clean that he doubted anything could soil it, but it was muted, faint, though growing stronger with each passing hour. Svana said nothing all the while, looking shaken and scared, but he knew she probably felt her own sensitivity as well.

If she sensed him, she gave no indication that his signature bothered her, in fact she seemed to need him near her, looking more frightened when he rose to deal with the bartender and snuggling to him, bloody clothes and all, when he sat down beside her to shield her from the rest of the cantina. It was loud, noisy, and totally not her setting, but it was safe here, and she seemed content to have him with her to ward away the world.

The soup arrived, and Svana stared dumbly at it until Atton picked up the spoon for her. It tasted alright, so he fed her slow mouthfuls, rubbing circles on her back and kissing her temple every once in a while. Force, whatever happened in that alley must have gotten to her. She seemed unhurt, but she must have seen something.

The comm. beeped. It was Mical.

_"Where are you two?"_

"Cantina. Updates?"

_"Still working on it. If you can, you should head over to my apartment."_

It seemed Mical was determined to get his wife to his apartment. Little brat.

"We kind of don't have a keycard, genius."

_"Ky...Svana knows how to work with it."_

_Huh._ Interesting that Mical is keeping her real name to himself. Also interesting that his wife knew how to pick locks, though she did manage to place a bug on Atton's shoe without Atton being any wiser, and from the look of the listening device it was homemade. His wife did have many talents Atton never tried to surmise.

"Will do," Atton nodded. Once they finish the soup, Svana deserved a more comfortable hiding place, and the cantina's loud music was a bit headache-inducing.

It was in the cab that his wife succumbed to tears.

'No know,' She shook her head, 'Sith, but, just let me go. Could have killed me.' She scrubbed one side of her face roughly with her hand as if trying to get something off it. 'Knew me. Called me Jedi Exile. Said we will meet again.'

'Won't let him hurt you,' Atton promised.

'Confused. No know why he just left.'

'Probably because I was coming.'

'No. Sith Master, and students. You no match.'

As much as that injured Atton's pride, he knew she was right.

'Feel lost,' Svana looked at him, 'Scared will die, scared will hurt you if die, suddenly,' She made an ambiguous gesture, 'Feel Force. A little.'

'That is good,' Atton told her, 'I feel you too. Means you are recovering.'

'No know why feel Force, suddenly.'

'No think about it,' Atton told her, 'Alive, I here, love you. Will be alright.'

He held her tightly until they arrived at Mical's apartment. The blonde did not know Atton was a skilled lockpicker himself, but Svana did and allowed him to do most of the work, as she had been ever since he found her. They passed by a few residents who gave her an odd look when they saw the bloodstains on her clothes, but she was calm now and clearly uninjured. They entered Mical's apartment in silence and Svana went to the boy's bedroom to find some of his spare clothes. It irked Atton to see her in _his _clothes, and that she was comfortable enough with Mical to just barge into his closet without asking first, but he had to concede that his wife could not go around wearing those things and her spare dresses were not exactly on hand right now.

She came out, looking weary and uttered a childlike sigh just as Mical keyed in.

"Didn't think you were a lockpicker too," He said to Atton as he stepped inside.

"How'd you know it was me?"

"She taught me lockpicking," The door slid closed behind Mical, "I know her style." He looked at Svana and blinked at the sight of his clothes on her. Svana smiled apologetically.

"What happened?" Mical asked, when he saw her bloodstained clothes on one of the chairs. He might have noticed her Force presence, but like Atton he chose not to comment on it.

"Ran into Sith," Said Atton, "Maybe Revan's lackeys?"

'No,' Svana signed, 'Not former Jedi.'

Atton blinked. That was new.

Mical uttered something that sounded a little like a curse under his breath. "What did he look like?"

'Tall, grey,' she signed, 'Brown eyes, normally. Dark hair. Male. Human.'

"Not one of us?"

She shook her head.

"You know who it was?" Atton asked.

"I might," Mical looked grim. "Human male, dark hair and dark eyes, not a former Jedi."

"Uh-huh. Right. Care to share your thoughts?"

"It's a long story," Mical sat down, "Back when Revan was a Jedi, his first master as a padawan was a Jedi Master named Arren Kae. She was actually his first and last master, and when Revan and the Revanchists went to fight in the war, Arren Kae was blamed for the schism within the order and exiled. She was said to have joined Revan in the war, but nothing was heard from her after Malachor." He looked at Svana, who wore a frown on her face but did not seem as affected by the mention of that particular battle. "Almost directly afterwards, there emerged a dark force that the Order named the Sith Triumverate. It consisted of a Sith Master named Darth Traya and her two apprentices, Darth Nihilus and Darth Sion. There were rumors that Darth Traya was actually Arren Kae, though she stayed behind the scenes most of the time. The other two, Nihilus and Sion, were seen here and there, wrecking destruction as Sith are wont to do, and the profiles state that Nihilus is a human male, with fair hair and amber eyes, while Sion, also a human male, had dark hair and brown eyes. It's a bit of a stretch, but..."

But Atton felt it too, as if the Force were whispering to him, stating, _It is he, it is he, Darth Sion is the one._ Something about the name itself just rang to him, like a bell.

'He no relation to Revan,' Svana signed.

"Not that we know of," Mical murmured, "And not that I can sense."

"I thought you don't use the Force anymore," Atton narrowed his eyes.

Mical sighed. "A Sith lord attacks my sister," He looked at Atton, "I need to do what I can to help her."

Put it that way, Atton could not complain.

'How they know me, if no relation to Revan?' Svana asked. 'No record, no name on list, how they know me? He called me "Jedi Exile".'

A long silence followed. No one had any idea.

* * *

><p>That night in Mical's sitting room, Atton dreamed.<p>

He saw Svana being cradled by someone, but it was not him. She was unconscious and limp, and there was something about her face that made her seem young. Was she...sixteen?

_The General was always a kind woman..._

_This will haunt her..._

A hand smoothed over her head and face and there were more murmurs.

_...No, I do not...must get her out of this...her part is yet to come, but will not be till years later...she is special...Force favors her...key to preventing the darkness that threatens...poor child...hard destiny..._

He saw Revan, clad in black and red with a crimson lightsaber poised to strike, and his beloved wife kneeling low before him, raising her own lightsaber to block. The image blurred, and suddenly there was another man, tall, dark of hair and eyes, skin grey like a corpse's and clad in black. His wife was screaming, tears streaking her frightened face, wriggling for all she was worth to try to escape his hold, but the man had his arms wrapped around her tightly and for all her struggles she could not free herself.

_You will break, Exile..._

A cave filled with crystals glowed in the dark, and this time it seemed as if Atton himself were walking through it. Mical was with him, clad in the robes of a Jedi, and it seemed like Atton was wearing similar robes himself. With them was a zabrak who sported an artificial glowing arm, a redhead and a fair Echani woman. There was also a Miraluka, though she was in front, running her hands over some of the crystals as if seeing them by feel. He saw a white crystal and reached for it, wanting to have the same crystal as his wife...

Svana was crying again, clutching his robes and sobbing, _You were a deserter, you had no reason to stay, you didn't even know me, why did you stay with me? Why do you follow me? They...they said it was me, that I was controlling all of you, they said I was a danger to the Force itself...You don't really love me, you only think you do..._

The sheer heartbreak in her words woke him, and Atton opened his eyes to look at Svana sleeping next to him, her body spooned tightly against his. In the real world, she was far calmer than in the dream, but he had seen her cry before. He tightened his hold on her and kissed her neck, causing her to shift slightly, though she did not wake.

"I love you, Svana," He whispered, "That's the truest thing I know."

How his life had changed...how _he _had changed, since meeting this wonderful woman. She was truly a miracle from the Force.

As long as she was willing to have him, Atton was not letting her go.

* * *

><p>The next day all three of them went to the temple. Atton only allowed Svana to come along because the Jedi Temple was due to be empty that day.<p>

"The Jedi Masters are convening on Katarr," Mical told him, "With the masters from the other Jedi Temples. We have this place to ourselves, in a way. Hopefully Kylin might recognize something in the archives about the Sith Triumverate, and possibly Revan."

Svana held his hand tightly as they followed the blonde indoors. True to his word, the temple was quite empty, with only a few cleaning droids rolling down the corridors. There were several Jedi initiates around, and Svana looked long at them, perhaps reminiscing about the days when she had been one of them.

"The library is this way," Mical called.

Once in the library, Svana began looking at files, but not those related to the Mandalorian wars. Instead, she was checking out general Sith records.

"If you keep digging through those files," Mical whispered to her nervously, "Atris is going to figure out someone went through them."

Svana made a motion that resembled something along the lines of 'Screw Atris', though in a much more refined fashion. She wore a cute scowl as she did so. Atton was not sure what it said about himself that the sight of that scowl made him instantly want to...do...things. Like maybe take his wife's suggestion, except replace Atris with _her_. Now that was an idea he was not protesting. Ever.

_Sith take it,_ he so wanted her right now. It was a shame Mical was here, otherwise, doing his wife in the _Jedi Temple Archives_...it was so scandalous that Atton had to excuse himself before he gave something away.

Mical remained oblivious. "She's going to have my head for this if she ever finds out I have been here..." He was saying when Atton came back from the refresher.

Svana reached out absently to squeeze Mical's shoulder. Feeling possessive, Atton inserted himself between them to embrace his wife. Svana rolled her eyes at this but cuddled a little as she worked. He had no idea what she was doing, but it was nice to bury his nose between her neck and shoulder and inhale her unique scent.

She even _smelled _pure.

"What are you looking for?" He whispered into her ear.

'Not sure,' She signed, 'Feel the Dark Side is involved.'

"Involved with what?"

'War.'

"The Sith?"

'Not sure.'

Fair enough.

His wife did shrug him off later, presumably for the benefit of her blonde admirer, who was getting uncomfortable with their closeness. Atton had to relent, since he might not be behaving too appropriately. Not that he really cared about what Mical thought, but whatever.

Svana suddenly took a flimsy and jotted something on it. Mical looked over to read out loud as she wrote them down.

"Telos IV, Onderon, Nar Shaddaa, Dantooine, Korriban. What?"

'Five points,' Svana signed, 'Bizarre surges of the Force.'

"Korriban seems pretty natural."

'Korriban is wasteland. No life there anymore, not since the Sith were driven away.'

"Well Darth Revan is a Sith Lord, as is Darth Malak."

'These happen before Mandalorians.'

Silence fell.

"Dantooine?" Mical asked. "We were on Dantooine before the war."

'Yes,' Svana gestured, 'But Temple records indicate activity there, while we were there.'

"Alright," Mical stated, as Svana handed him the flimsy, "I'll look into it."

* * *

><p>That evening, they got moved to another hotel room with the help of Mical's authority. They were allowed to collect their belongings once they had passed inspection and Mical told them not to worry about the expenses from the shooting. The new room had less of a view, which was fine because Atton did not want Jossa or whoever the sniper was to have another chance to finish the job. In any case, it was good to get out of Mical's apartment and back to quarters of their own, even if it was temporary.<p>

Atton could not believe it, but he missed Bandomeer.

He set instantly to work doing what he had not been able to do at the temple library, but it was not long before it became apparent that Svana was just not in the mood. For someone with such a delectable body, she had less drive than anyone Atton had ever met, so after a while he gave up.

'Sorry,' Svana was very apologetic.

"Nah," Atton blew a breath, wishing he could blow out his frustration as easily, "It's not your fault."

She curled her fingers around him and _Sith her hands are small and exquisite_ but Atton quickly pushed her gently back. Despite the pleasure coursing through him, he could feel her despondent mood. She was not really enjoying this.

"Stop. Svana." He groaned, but she let go and he took a moment to compose himself. "What's wrong?" He asked.

She sat up, and in the dim light she looked ethereally beautiful, her hair loose about her shoulders. Atton use to think women with short hair were really hot, but Svana pulled off the long hair very elegantly, even when it was all mussed. He took some of the soft silky strands in his fingers to stroke it.

'No know. Stressed.'

"Heh. Aren't we all."

'Had dream last night,' Svana sighed. 'Been years, since feel the Force. Hard to adjust.'

Atton turned his head. "No harder than adjusting to suddenly being without the Force, I hope?"

Svana sat back further. 'Had dream last night.'

Suddenly, Atton remembered his own dream. "What about?"

'This woman. Miraluka.' She hesitated. 'Well first…planet, ships going to planet. Then the Jedi Masters. I think planet was Katarr, because all the masters were there. Wiped out planet, including all masters. Felt their deaths.' She shuddered. 'Then, this woman, Miraluka, unconscious but no dead. Someone go up to her, someone dark, evil. Picked her up, took her away.'

"Wiped out a _planet?_" Atton cocked an eyebrow.

'I did same thing to Malachor. Not impossible.'

_Oh._

He sat up as well. "What do you want to do?"

'No know, but…think should go to Katarr. Worried.'

"Katarr's kind of a journey, you know."

'I know. I sorry.'

"Don't be sorry," Atton said with mild annoyance, "You're always being sorry for things that aren't your fault. Look, we get Mical to warn the masters who are on planet, get them to watch out for ships. Katarr's between Onderon and Dantooine, so if we get Republican fleets there to watch over the area, then any ships that are coming—they at least are prepared."

She nodded, but did not ease.

"Baby," He sighed, enveloping her in a hug, "Everything's going to be alright. You'll see."

* * *

><p>Bastila Shan contacted Svana early next morning.<p>

_"Too blasted hard to get your frequency,"_Said the Jedi, _"We missed Revan by seconds. Watch yourself."_

"Sith," Atton cursed, arm wrapping around Svana's waist, "Any idea where he's headed?"

_"None. Are the Jedi Masters gone already?"_

"Pretty much all of them, the last time we checked."

Shan growled something incoherent. "_Ky—or whatever you're calling yourself, he wants to use you somehow. I'm not sure how. Several things: the Jedi Council did not take away your Force sensitivity, Revan engineered something; you have to watch out for a woman by the name of Kreia, she has some significance to Revan. There are two Sith Lords in addition to Revan and Malak, you need to watch out for them—"_

"I thought there were three."

_"Two is bad enough, why would you want three?"_

'The Sith Triumverate,' Svana gestured, 'I ran into one of them already.'

She had to repeat the gesture because Shan had not been paying attention to her.

Shan's next curse was much clearer. _"Are you hurt?"_

Svana shook her head.

_"Get the hell out of Coruscant. I don't know what you're still doing there, are you stupid? Grab that boy, what's his name, Mical—he's been hanging around the temple recently before going off to bring you back. Get out of Coruscant and run. Ky—whatever you are, Sari, Siri, Sana, you're in no shape to fight a Sith Lord! Just because you don't have a Force presence does not mean you're immune. Revan wants to use you somehow and it's beyond me what he wants you for, but you can bet the Sith Lords are targeting you as well."_

'Why?'

_"I have no idea why. I'll try to contact you later, through what's his name, Mical, again. But get off planet as soon as possible and don't dawdle." _Shan looked back before looking at the screen. _"I have to go. Watch yourself, and you, take care of her!"_ The connection ended.

"Demanding woman," Atton grumbled, but he pressed a kiss to Svana's head. "Well, you heard the lady. Let's get packing."

'Where go?' His wife asked.

"Well, you wanted to go to Katarr," He shrugged, "Now seems like the perfect excuse, if we can get Blondie to secure a transport for us." The only problem was that the Jedi Masters were there, but if his wife had dreamed about it, maybe they were supposed to just hang around. Besides, the Jedi Masters would hardly expect to find the Jedi Exile right there with them, and with the Jedi Masters around, they could probably defend Svana against the Sith.

Svana seemed to agree, because she gave him a peck on the lips and began packing to leave.


	14. Interlude II

The Silent Maiden

Interlude

_"Get out," _The voice was a bit muffled and interspersed with static, but the authority in it was clear. _"Get out before it blows!"_

Kylin's hologram flickered out. Sion paused the feed to rewind. Finding images of Kdan Kylin had not been easy, and in fact, without the Force he would never have even found this one. Holograms were very good at transmitting images of real objects, but they were bad at transmitting images of other holograms, and in this one Kylin's holographic figure was so blurry it was completely unrecognizable as a humanoid, let alone a specific Jedi. Throughout the feed no one had ever referred to her by name, making it almost impossible for anyone to identify her.

He knew it was Kylin, though, despite having never heard her voice before. Only she could exude that…essence, even through a holo-recording.

_"Status report."_

_"All enemies on the eastern wing taken down, that way is clear. Kind of odd though, not that many people there."_

_"Where are you now?"_

_"We're in the control room."_

_"Any sign of the leader?"_

_"Negative. It appears the commander of the fleet escaped through one of the pods right after we finished navigating the eastern wing."_

_"Bring up the viewscreen."_

Kylin's image turned off as the soldier complied. _"Forwarding the feed, General."_

_"Got it.__" _There was a pause, and then, _"Get out. Get out before it blows!"_

Silence blanketed the room, and this time Sion did not rewind. Kylin had seemed a different person in this recording, and yet it was not that much of a stretch. He had looked into intelligent eyes that night, seen a young woman who had as much defiance in her as any worthy Sith, and though heavily wounded and fractured, she held herself together with an integrity that Sion had never seen before.

She was very small.

Sion could probably break her bones with his bare hands alone, even without the Force. She was pretty, but in a flower-like way, delicately built and with features more befitting of a palace than a battlefield. Large solemn eyes framed with ample lashes, skin smooth and young, hair coiled with modest clasps with some hanging loose to her waist in soft silken streams. At the time she had been wearing a simple dress that accentuated all the more delightful parts of her form, her thin waist and thin frame and long thin neck. How odd, that the galaxy should produce such fragile life-forms, so weak and easily broken. Normally Sion would have been disdainful; the Sith despised the weak most of all, but then the girl's presence lit and suddenly he felt…

_A star._

Not a large star, or even a bright one, but it was beautiful, and so was she, and this was something he never expected to behold. Now that he felt her, sensed the soft touch of her aura, he had to have her, and the need was all-consuming.

He had to have the Exile.

Sion had to appreciate the irony. Here he was, obsessing over the Jedi Exile when merely days ago he had been scoffing at Nihilus, who was obsessing over his Miraluka girl. The Force worked in mysterious ways.

* * *

><p>It often puzzled sentients, why the Dark Side was so easy to fall to. The Light was safety, security, warmth, but to those like Sion, it was a shiny covering that wrapped a greater, more profound truth. There were those who dwell on the surface and only see its colors. In the day, so much is shown, and so no one cares to investigate further. Song, music, joy, all lead to complacency, and there was so much clamor, so much <em>nonsense<em>, that even with the truth in front of one's eyes, one never sees it.

The Dark Side is pain and anguish, but with it was something more than mere power. The universe is a mighty thing, and holds many secrets. It is in the night that most plots are conducted, and those who hide away during the day come out under the cover of the moon. The galaxy is a large place, but only some of it is filled with stars. The rest is encased in shadow, and different energies work there. That is why the night is so profound; it resembles much of the universe, and only without the sun in its glory can one see the stars beyond and behold the universe in all its celestial wonder. Light is noise, interference. Only through darkness can one truly see.

That sight…that _knowledge_, is worth all the pain and agony, the destruction and devastation. The Dark Side is not benign, but neither, really, is the Light. It surrounds those who follow it with a promise of false safety, but lights always go out—candle flames flicker out of existence and stars die. In the end, it is the darkness that prevails, so if Light cannot even sustain itself, how can it sustain those who bask in it? Those who embrace the dark know this, know that what they feel, what they see, is the realm of existence in its rawest form, undecorated by life, love, or superficial joy. Through this they are strengthened, made wiser. _That _is the ultimate gift of the Dark Side.

Yet for all the truth, the Jedi Exile is a beautiful thing. She is pure and untainted, and within her resonated a kind of song that Sion could not help but hear. Here was a child, born as grey as the rest of them, who had been immersed in the violence that was war, wallowed in the emptiness that was pain and suffering, and yet remained completely untainted by it all. There was nothing false about her, no skeletons to hide. She sent millions to their deaths and was willing to grieve, to mourn for them. It was absurd, amazing. He had no idea how such a sentient could exist.

The universe is a harsh place. No one survives it unscathed. Even the Exile, with all her power and beauty, had suffered her share of wounds. How then, did she seem so whole, so complete?

He tried to meditate, but his thoughts would drift, and he would see her as she was that night, eyes defiant and filled with inner light. She was small, but she was hard to defeat, even without her Force-sensitivity, and when he felt that spark of return, felt her spirit…

_What do you want her for?_ Darth Traya's voice sneered in his mind, and he could see the old hag, in her dark robes with her hood covering all but her grey lips. _Do you think she would ever agree to be with one such as you?_

Perhaps not. A whole war could not bring down the Exile. He certainly cannot pull her away. She was willing to give up the Force, and perhaps that was where her strength lay. Keep away from what the Force showed, its song and its visions, reject its false promises of guidance and wisdom. See the world through eyes unhindered, ignore the empty whispers and listen to the silence. There might be something there to be heard.

_What do you see?_ He wondered. _Are you relieved, to be apart from the rest of us, the rest of the galaxy and its currents? Does the quiet calm you? How do you let go of something as demanding as the Force?_

For the Force is demanding, and takes as much as it gives—nay, takes more, takes loyalty, when it only gives what it likes. Even the Sith are not blind to that, yet despite all this they need the Force, need it to live, to have a purpose. In the Force, destinies are woven, and choices clearly displayed, with their consequences clear. To give up the Force is to be lost, to be forced to explore without aid.

In this, Jedi and Sith are one and the same: they are both afraid.

The Exile might be too, but she could bear the fear.

_What do you hope to do?_ Darth Traya's voice sneered again. _What do you hope to obtain? You are but a fool, and all you know is Pain. What she knows, what she has seen, is more than you can ever comprehend._

Darth Traya always talked too much, but what made Sion hate her even more, was that she always spoke the truth.

* * *

><p>"I don't like it," Said Reddon Marr, "I don't like how they all just <em>flock <em>here. Darkness surrounds the Jedi, and follows where they go. The sooner they leave, the better."

Visas looked up from petting her pet feline, a creature that was soft and fluffy and absolutely lovely to cuddle.

"But Jedi are noble, Papa," She called out, "They're not going to endanger the rest of us."

"I never said they would do so intentionally," Her father replied, sighing, "But it is no matter now. They are here, and more of them are flocking here. Let's hope they leave before anything happens."

Her pet was purring, and Visas hugged it to her, smiling as she continued to stroke.

"Visas?" Her mother called, "I think the laundry has finished drying, can you bring them inside?"

"Of course, Mama," She called out, lifting the feline and setting it gently on the ground. It chirped and brushed against her leg, but Visas stepped apologetically away.

The sun was shining brightly on this side of Katarr, and Visas felt her face warm as she stepped out of the cottage. She could not see the laundry, but the Force told her when to stop and how high she must lift her hand to capture the flapping cloth. Some of it was still damp, so she let them hang a little more. She collected the rest and brought them into the house to fold.

"I forgot that there's a deal in the Ket'at store in town," Said Reddon when she entered, "I really want those vitamins. Adasti? I'm heading out."

"You know you're not supposed to fly the speeder with those eardrops, Reddon!"

"Yeah, but the deal expires today and I'm going to have to fly the speeder anyway."

"They're just a bunch of vitamins, Reddon!"

"It's sixty percent off!"

"You don't even know if there's any left at this point!"

"Right, well, no harm in trying."

"Visas, go with your father! Fly the speeder so he doesn't take it into his head and pilot it into a tree!"

"The eardrops aren't _that _bad," Reddon grumbled.

"Let's not take any chances, Papa," Visas laughed, setting the laundry basket down to take her father by the elbow, "All it takes is a dizzy spell at one of those turns and then the sixty percent you're trying to save goes to paying for your life. Mama! I left some of the clothes outside because they were still a little wet, but I brought most of them in already!"

"Thank you, love! Fly safely!" Her mother called out, while her father headed out of the house, still grumbling.

The trip to town was uneventful and short. Reddon bought all of the remaining vitamins, which was not much at this point. He was still pleased that he took advantage of the discount, however, and whistled happily as they left the store to return to the speeder.

"You're incorrigible, Papa," Visas laughed at her father's antics.

"Yes, well, the money we save here goes into your education, so you should be grateful!" Her father teased.

"I am," Visas smiled.

_"And what do you intend to do about that, kid?"_

Something flickered at the edges of her senses, and the Miraluka turned her head to focus better on the source. It was…something very bright, very pure and beautiful, and she was abruptly filled with the longing to be close to this source, to get to know and befriend whoever this was.

_"Atton, I was merely pointing out the situation."_

_"Yeah, well, we don't need you to point anything out, thanks. We did fine on our own for all these years, you think all of the sudden we suddenly need you to point out the obvious?"  
><em>

Coming closer, Visas noticed that this source was flanked by two other individuals. One was unremarkable, with a clean aura but not very bright and glowing. The other, however, was…slippery, hard to grasp and read, yet undoubtedly wrong, dissonant, blurry, and almost…sinister.

The men had stopped talking, and she sensed the bright aura approach. Whoever it was halted, and Visas took a moment to study it. Human, female, relatively young but still older than Visas herself. Within the layers of light, a seeping wound that had yet to close. _Seeing _it, with the Sight of all the Miraluka people, almost made Visas feel as if her own heart were pierced.

"Hello," She greeted in Basic, "I am Visas Marr. How do you do?"

"Visas?" Reddon called, and she sensed her father tense at the situation.

There was a moment of silence, and then the slippery aura approached. Visas wanted to shy away, but the bright aura remained as she was, and the Miraluka was not sure what to make of this.

"Er," The slippery one began awkwardly, sounding much more timid and contrite than he did when he was sneering at the dim one, "Hey, um, sorry about this, my wife doesn't speak out loud, she uses sign language and…yeah. I'm Atton Rand, this is my wife, Svana Rand. This is…going to be really strange, but she's asking if you wouldn't mind coming with us…?"

Visas tilted her head. "Svana Rand." Something about the name sent a pulse through her, and the Force urged her to follow the bright one, the fair one. "I need to take my father home. Would you like to come with us?"

Atton muttered, "Really? Are all Miraluka this trusting? Ahem. Well, Svana's offering…_all _of you to come join us. On our ship." He then apparently turned to Svana, "That didn't sound creepy _at all_."

The Force was churning strongly, however, and even before Visas could agree, her father was already saying, "Yes, of course. My wife is at home, however. It's only a short distance from here."

"Uh, good, because…we don't have much time, apparently."

The dim one had approached as well. "What's going on?" He asked Atton.

"I have _no _idea, but Svana's worried," And indeed, the fair aura did seem to tinge with urgency. A soft hand grasped Visas' own and pulled gently. "She wants us to fly the ship over to the Marr residence and pick up the mother, and then get our butts off Katarr."

"Where is your ship?" Reddon asked.

"This way, sir. My name is Mical…"

Svana was still holding on to Visas, but it was then that the Miraluka felt a terrible wave of—_Fear, anger, darkness, death, hate, sickness, hunger, hunger, **hunger**—_

The Force _screamed._ Visas felt her knees hit the ground. Svana's arm tugged her back up again and another hand pushed at the small of her back to urge her into a run.

"Svana!" Atton yelled, "Get to the ship! Kid! Hurry up! Get to the ship!"

The Force was twisting, and the rocking waves made Visas absolutely _nauseous._ She suddenly lost the sense of where the ground was and only Svana's support kept her upright. Her feet slammed against some metal incline and the sun's rays disappeared as she ducked until a shelter. Around her, she sensed life somehow _dissipating_, like sugar dissolving in water.

"Papa!" She cried out, still sick but terrified, "Papa! Where are you!?"

Atton was cursing, and Visas felt his arm grab her and shove her further inside. "Kid, hurry up!"

_The Jedi, what is happening? _

"Get the engines started, Svana! Here, I got him—" She sensed Atton leave her side and her father approach, but his Force signature was incredibly faint, as if he had suddenly aged several decades.

"You go fly!" Mical was shouting at Atton, "Get this ship off the planet! I'll handle this! Sir, I need you to breathe,"

"What's happening?" Visas choked out, surprised when her voice emerged as a sob.

Mical did not answer. With a shudder, the engines came on and she sensed the ship they were on lift off the ground.

The world was spinning. It was tainted, the shadows of the Dark Side permeating its waves. Like a whirlwind, it was meshing everything together, sucking at the life energies of all life around her. Amidst it all, Svana's aura remained that bright, shining beacon, and Visas struggled upright and staggered to the woman to grab on to that anchor. Nearby, she sensed Atton do the same, and moments later, Mical had joined them, grabbing on to the woman both physically and through the Force.

The ship faltered. Svana did not acknowledge the rest of them, and she felt the lean muscles under her hands strain as the human woman yanked at the controls to direct the ship. The Force was still howling and Visas could only clutch as tightly as she could and hope she would survive the ordeal. They spun, the ship dropped, then yanked up again with the turbulence, before smoothing out.

Around them, the Dark Side stretched out to capture them, but there was a pulse of energy below, where the Jedi had convened. The black shadows fell back to address the Jedi, and they were free.

The Force quieted quickly, to a low, troubled murmur. Visas found herself shaking, teeth chattering audibly in her mouth.

"What in the _galaxy_ was that?!" Atton exclaimed, sounding hoarse, as if he had been screaming with the Force. Visas realized that her own throat was dry as well.

A sweet voice, clear and melodious like a song, echoed through their minds along where they had all attached to Svana.

_I do not know what that was, but that was the work of a Sith, _She said solemnly. Visas could feel her arms and hands move with the words. _We are not out of danger yet._

The Dark Side was a strong, engulfing presence behind them, distracted as it was. Visas found her body to be locked in position, and struggled to let go of Svana's arm. She felt the woman squeeze her own in reassurance, before returning her attentions to the flight.

"The Sith aren't supposed to be able to do _that_!" Atton was exclaiming, "Was that Revan? Because he certainly wasn't able to do _that _three years ago!"

"That did not feel like Revan to me," Said Mical.

"Was it Sion then?"

_No._ Svana's voice was troubled. _That was someone else entirely. We have not encountered this Sith before._

"Please tell me the Jedi have some trick they can use against that."

There was an ominous silence.

"The Miraluka—" Mical suddenly yanked away from their group. Visas lifted her head in alarm. She could not sense her father.

"Papa—" Though her body felt stiff and uncoordinated, she managed to spring to her feet and stagger to where she sensed her father last. "Papa!"

"Sir, sir? Sir!" Mical acted quickly, dashing across the room to fetch some supplies. "Atton! I need your help!"

"What now?" But Atton arrived.

"I need you to push on his chest, quickly!" Mical cried, "Injecting epinephrine—go!"

Atton pressed into her father's chest. The Force was terribly silent where her father should be, and it seemed like years and yet seconds before Mical told Atton to stop, told Visas that he was sorry, and Svana was gathering the Miraluka girl into her arms, as the same silence of her father descended where they left Katarr far behind. The shock of it all was too much, and Visas sank into the older woman's arms, her mind giving out like her planet's.

* * *

><p><em>"So what would have happened if we hadn't been there?"<em>

_The Sith would have taken her. She is strong, and particularly pure in the Force.  
><em>

_"For all their talk of hating the Light Side, they do seem particularly drawn to it," _Mical's voice sounded further away than the other two. Or one?

There was a horrid emptiness as Visas woke. Svana's aura was bright and solid, and through the Force, the Miraluka reached for it. The human woman accepted her mental touch with warmth.

_She is awake._

__"Huh? Oh. Hey there, you had a bad shock. Kid! Get your rear end over here! She's awake!"

_Atton,_ Svana sounded disapproving.

"Yeah, that's never going to happen. Kid, hurry up!"

"I'm here," Mical sounded a little long-suffering, and his aura flickered with the slight hints of annoyance, which he quickly suppressed as he turned his attention toward Visas. "How are you feeling?"

Visas opened her mouth, noting that her jaw and tongue felt unusually weak. Her voice was equally faint when she spoke. "What happened?"

"A Sith attacked," Atton said after a distinct pause. "He used some kind of Force technique. He was probably there for the Jedi, but…"

"K—Svana was somehow able to withstand the onslaught," Mical informed Visas, "She managed to shelter you, me, and Atton."

Visas was quiet for a moment. "Papa is gone."

"I'm sorry."

So was her mother. So was everyone on Katarr. Visas realized that this human trio had saved her life, had tried to save her parents. Her emotions twisted within her. Dead silence on Katarr, where she grew up all her life. No life, no movement, no thoughts. Just…emptiness.

Did she feel empty, or was she feeling so much that she had gone numb?

"Did you know this would happen?" She asked in a voice that resembled a droid's.

_No,_ Svana's thoughts rang sadly, even as Atton appeared to translate for her, "No, we didn't. Svana had a suspicion—" _I had a premonition that something bad would happen if I did not go to Katarr—_"That something was coming for Katarr and we had to go there, but—"_ But I did not know what it was—_ "That was all we knew." Atton did not translate what she said next. _I saw you in the vision, and when I saw you on Katarr, I had a strong urge to take you away from the place._

__Visas understood, somewhere in the back of her mind. It was the same feeling that urged her to trust in these random strangers, the same feeling that urged her father to follow them into their ship. The Force was an unyielding guide sometimes, and rarely deigned to disclose its reasons until the right time.

She knew there were more questions she should ask, more answers she should demand, like why her, why Svana, what horrible Sith technique could wipe out a planet, how the four of them managed to survive such a thing—but she suddenly had a strong urge to vomit, and cold sweat broke out over her skin. For the first time in her life, she was all alone.

She heaved. A bowl was placed for her, and Svana hugged her tightly, moving her veil out of the way.

_I am here,_ The fair woman promised, _We are here. We will take care of you._

__Visas reached up to squeeze a wrist and clung on tightly as she retched.


	15. Chapter 13

The Silent Maiden

Chapter 13

_They are all gone.  
><em>

Once the Miraluka exhausted herself, Svana tucked her to the bunks, then came out, feeling like every part of her body was aching. Atton caught her, and she had the presence of mind to wonder at how large he was compared to her, his hands closing easily around her upper arms as he guided her to the mess to sit down. Mical was in the medbay, but he appeared to be talking to someone, and her husband left her once he made sure she was alright to see what he was doing.

_"Are they _all _gone?" _Shan's voice demanded, sounding angry and terrified. _"What _was _that?!"_

_"Some kind of Force technique that fed off of hunger," _Mical's voice sounded shaken, _"It was hunger, pure and profound. All life on the planet was consumed. We nearly were too, if it hadn't been…"_

_"That can't be Revan."  
><em>

_"No, Svana said it wasn't," _Atton replied.

Shan uttered something too jarbled for Svana to understand. _"Where are you headed now?"_

_"We have not entered hyperspace yet, so we're still in the Vensori sector."_

_"Is she here? I want to talk to her."  
><em>

Svana was already making her way into the medbay where the comm. console was. Shan's image fizzed out once in a while, but was quite clear.

'I here', she gestured.

_"What do you call yourself again?"_

"Svana Rand," Atton answered impatiently. "What's the point?"

_"Svana, what in the name of the Force happened?"_

Svana gestured jerkily, 'They told you. I no know more.'

_" And the five remaining Jedi masters have gone offline,"_ Shan flipped her pigtails over her shoulder. _"They didn't go to the meeting on Katarr. After—whatever that was, I tried to contact them, but they didn't respond."_

'Who they?' Svana asked.

Shan appeared to pause for a moment. _"They're on the Council. Zez-Kai Ell, Lonna Vash, Vrook Lamar, Atris, and…Kavar."_

She knew that Shan was afraid of her reaction to these old names, but strangely, all Svana felt was numb. She had Atton now. That life felt like someone else's, not hers. Still, she reached for his hand for encouragement, and her husband squeezed hers instantly, lips thinning unhappily.

'Where were they last?'

_"…Ilum."_ Shan frowned._ "I don't know what they were doing there, but they all went to Ilum."_

'You want me find them.'

For some reason, Shan covered her face at this. _"I don't want you searching Ilum. Not even with Mical, or your Force-sensitive husband. This whole business—look, I know that the Order cast you out,"_ She fell silent again.

It was not often that Bastila Shan made no sense at all. The deaths of hundreds of Jedi at once would rattle anyone. Svana stared blankly, feeling exhausted and empty. She still had that Miraluka girl to worry about.

_"Look, for all I know, you and I are the only ones left. You're a Jedi in my books, Ky—Svana. I need to find the masters, because I need to know for sure, but I don't want you out and about when we have, for all intents and purposes, four or five Sith Lords running around, one of whom just consumed a planet. We need to rendezvous somewhere."  
><em>

'No,' Svana shook her head, 'Not safe that way.'

"You _really _want to get together?" Atton said right over her, "After what just happened? The only reason the Sith could annihilate all the Jedi at once is because they were all in one place! That's the last thing we should do now!"

_"Revan is still looking for you! And you were attacked by at least one other Sith, personally."_

'Understand, but better find information separately, then meet up later,' Svana replied, 'They expect us to flock together after something like that.'

Bastila covered her face again. _"Ugh…and the Star Forge…"_

'You, focus on Revan,' Svana replied, 'I focus on Jedi Masters and finding them. Keep me apprised.'

_"How do you intend to find them if you don't even have any Force powers? Any attempts to communicate with them have been fruitless!"_

'One thing at time,' Svana reminded her, 'Need delegate, you Revan, me the others, however many there are left. We keep in touch.'

Shan sighed heavily.

'You worry about yourself. If we truly only ones left, must be extra careful. Order on brink of extinction.' Svana pointed at her. 'You are the last Jedi.'

Shan paused. _"So are you, Exile. Mical."_

Svana understood the sentiment. She nodded. 'We keep in touch.'

_"Be careful, Exile. May the Force be with you." _Shan sounded terrified as she said this, and Mical echoed the parting words with a similar fear.

The connection closed.

Atton swore.

"What do we do now?" Mical asked.

"The blind girl's still in the bunks. Where should we drop her off?"

'We find out when she wakes up.'

Svana went to the navicomputer to display the galaxy map. She was strangely reluctant to go after the Jedi masters. She had the distinct feeling that they were hiding and would not want to be found. It was odd, because she never thought of them as cowards before. She was not sure why she was now. It felt like she was in a daze, detached from the part of her that felt anything. She found herself staring at the map for a while.

"Hey," Atton murmured, his warm arms encircling her from behind, "You alright?"

She gripped his hands tightly, feeling the need to know that no matter what happened, he would always be with her. His arms squeezed in response.

"I'll be here, love," He promised, "I'm never leaving you."

Her focus was still off, but she felt tension dissipate from her shoulders, and now simply felt tired. He supported her as she sank into him.

"How are we supposed to find the other masters?"

Svana shook her head and raised her hand to gesture. 'I need—'

"You're broadcasting, by the way. I…don't think you realize that…"

She was? Svana checked herself absently, then blinked. Ever since losing her Force-sensitivity, shields and the like were, of course, irrelevant. Once she gained some sensitivity back, protecting her mind had not been her priority. At the moment, there were no shields, but she did feel three connections between herself and the other occupants on the ship. Mical's was the oldest, a bond that had been forged long ago when they were both children, but had been left unstimulated for a time. The strongest, most vibrant bond was with Atton, and as she followed through it, she sensed him, then a reflexive current carrying _+2 and 19? No, -1 and 19 make 18—_before that went away and all she could sense was his worry for her.

Svana placed that thought for later, directing her attention to the third bond. The Miraluka. They knew each other for all of an hour, most of which was just Svana holding her as she went into shock. There was no reason this bond should have formed.

"Svana?"

_I'm confused. _This was too much. A world had just been annihilated, all prominent members of the Jedi Order, and there were these connections to her mind that she did not know were there—The young woman pressed her hands to her face.

_Get a grip. Pull yourself together. You were once a General._ Svana looked at the map. The many planets glowed to her, accompanied by their moons and asteroids. Her vision tunneled in.

* * *

><p><em>She was on a ship. A droid was clicking over her body. She felt her awareness ebbing, and lazy thoughts circled in her head. Was she dying?<em>

_Opening her eyes. She was in some medbay, but it was empty. She headed out. Where was she?  
><em>

_Droids. They attacked her. She dodged their blaster bolts, heart pounding.  
><em>

_The morgue. Bodies were supine on gurneys. She went through, searching, clutching her plasma torch. A woman suddenly sat up from one of the gurneys.  
><em>

_"…Exile…"  
><em>

_M4-78. The factory was empty. The old woman from the morgue was standing on a platform.  
><em>

_"…Destiny calls, Exile…"  
><em>

* * *

><p>Svana inhaled sharply.<p>

"Svana!" Atton exclaimed, adjusting his hold on her. She had fainted on him, and she could sense her husband's panic. "Kid! Blondie! Get over here!"

"Kylin, you need to rest," Mical told her as Atton lifted her completely off her feet. She was too disoriented to protest.

"We don't have time to wait," Svana said out loud, her voice soft and low and almost guttural. She felt Atton pause, but otherwise ignore this milestone. She had a feeling it was temporary, anyway.

"You're no good like this," Mical said to her, "You were drained earlier, when you protected us from whatever that was. Several hours would not make a difference."

"We have to get to M4-78."

"Alright," Atton said quickly, "Come on, let's lie you down. Kid, go set the course. I got her, would you _move? _Force!"

The world spun, and she grabbed on to her husband, swallowing the urge to vomit. _First the Miraluka, now me._

"Yeah," Said Atton, "Lie flat, you'll be alright," He set her down on the cot, letting her stretch out. "You alright now?"

_We need to get to M4-78._

"The kid's on it. We're heading to the planet." Atton waited as Svana's breathing calmed.

He waited with her as she collected her bearings and helped her sit slowly up when she made the motion.

"Who was that woman?" Atton asked.

_Not sure._ Svana folded her arms. Now that there was nothing to do except wait, she felt cold and stunned, and leaned close to her husband for reassurance.

"M4-78, huh." A pause. "That was the first place you went. It's some kind of droid planet, right?"

Svana nodded. _M4-78 had a droid facility. They were supposed to mine the area and prepare it for colonization. The planet had resources but was not readily habitable._

Atton scratched his head. "This is…weird. Not that I mind, but it's weird to have your voice in my head like that."

'Sorry,' Svana gestured, but his hands closed over hers.

"I said I didn't mind. Why did you go there first?"

Svana was quiet for a while. That time in her life seemed distant, clouded. Atton's hands felt warm over hers.

_I think I just chose a random spot on the map. I wanted to get as far away from Coruscant as possible._

"Sounds reasonable," Her husband remarked.

They sat for a while, before joining Mical in the mess. Mical was sending a report to his superiors on Coruscant.

"Kid, _what _are you doing?" Atton exclaimed, "Do you have any idea what kind of panic this could cause?"

"I'm not telling them about Katarr, I'm telling them that we are headed for M4-78, and that our return will be delayed, so they won't get their ship back when they expect it," Mical scowled a little at him, before looking at Svana, "I'm not convinced we will find the Jedi Masters there."

_We are not looking for the Jedi Masters._

"We aren't?"

"Wait," Atton blinked, "You can hear her too?"

_I think all three of you can,_ Svana sighed, hoping the two men would not use this as an excuse to squabble again. They seemed to hear this as well, because they both looked down uneasily.

_My Force sensitivity is not strong, but it is pointing to the old woman, whoever she is. M4-78 seems to be where I am supposed to wait for her, assuming she is not waiting for me._

"Are we sure she is a friend?" Mical asked, "The vision…I did not see it very clearly, but I felt a darkness about her."

Atton scowled at this, displeased, but Svana paused at this. The woman did feel murky, clouded, surrounded by grey fog. She was certainly not a Jedi, but she would not go as far as claim that she was a Sith. She did not feel nearly dark enough.

_She is someone we must meet, at any rate,_ Svana thought to the two of them, _She may not be a friend, but she is likely an ally. That is all I can sense._

"Your senses have never been wrong before," Mical shrugged.

Svana felt a pang of hurt. She _had _been wrong. It was strange how piercing Mical's ignorant faith in her was. The blonde youth blinked, probably sensing her reaction, but instead of looking bewildered or confused, his brows set stubbornly and he gazed at her steadily, as if in challenge.

"I need a caffa," Atton groaned. "We got any left?"

"There should be plenty left," Mical replied. The ship was actually a Republic cruiser, meant to be manned by nine crew for sixteen passengers. It was new enough, however, that it did not need extensive maintenance. Mical had stocked it with food and other supplies before they left Coruscant, which was just as well, considering their extended trip.

Atton went to brew, Mical finished his report, leaving Svana with little to do. The window screens showed the lights of hyperspace around them as the ship targeted the planet. She stared, watching the lights streak past, mind curiously empty and hearing only the creak of Mical's chair, the whistle of Atton's pot, and the humming of the hyperdrive. She knew she should have some form of plan—but she truly did not know what to expect, or what she should do.

It had been so long since she had to plan ahead.

_They are all gone._ It was so sudden. Her mind still reeled from it, avoided thinking about the subject. She was Svana Rand, and she could afford to ignore the Jedi Order for a while. She was not a Jedi.

_By the Force, they are all gone…_

She fell asleep in the mess, dreaming of only a deafening silence where the chorus of life had once been, but it seemed only minutes when she woke up again in the bunks, tucked in by Atton's caring hand. The Miraluka—_Visas Marr, her name was_—was awake, sitting cross-legged on the floor, and apparently had been meditating for a while. She was younger than Svana, though not by much, probably by only a year or so. Clad in delicate pink and white with shimmering lace woven onto her veil, she was very much a youthful maiden, and it made Svana shudder to think what might have happened if—assuming, she would even have survived Katarr. She had recurring dreams before arriving on the Miraluka colony world, of a masked Sith with an aura of pure hunger reaching for the girl and gouging out the chunks of flesh where her vestigial eyes would have been, and the young woman's pure aura cracking from the shock and trauma, alone for the first time in her life and facing one of the greatest evils of the galaxy.

"Are you a Jedi?" Marr asked, breaking into her thoughts.

Svana paused. _No._

At first she did not respond, making Svana wonder if perhaps she could not communicate with her this way after all, but then, "You use to be one."

Svana stood, walked over to the Miraluka, and sat down across from her.

_I was a padawan. Long ago._

Marr was still and silent again. "What will happen to me now?"

Svana sighed at this. She was not sure how to convey this to her. _You are strong in the Force. We are trying to see if we can clean up this mess. You can help us, if you wish._

"I have nowhere else to go."

She sounded composed enough, but Svana could feel the sickening roll of fear and uncertainty. All of her life, this Miraluka had been surrounded by the lives of others, able to reach out and touch their minds and their presences. They kept themselves covered to preserve their personal space, but they were always in constant communion with each other because that was the way they interacted with the world. To have that all torn away so brutally, her father right by her—Svana was surprised Marr could even stand to think about any of this.

"Who did this?" Marr suddenly demanded, "Who did this to us—to my people?"

Svana shook her head sadly. _I don't know. We will find out, however._

"Good." Marr's voice carried a sharp edge. "Because I'm not going to let them get away with this." She bowed her head. "You are right. I am strong in the Force. Papa and Mama ensured I was trained to use it well. You were a Jedi. You can train me, and we can show whoever this…this _monster _is that they don't get to destroy so many lives without suffering consequences."

A heavy, awkward silence fell. Svana found that she was not sure what to say. She was hardly qualified to train anyone in her state, and as for their future plans…she had none, beyond looking for the Jedi Masters who were missing, and whoever that old woman was. The Miraluka's fists were clenched, knuckles white, as she waited for Svana's reply.

_I don't know if I can train you, _She finally thought to her, _I haven't used the Force in so long…so many memories are painful to me._ Kavar, face cold, utterly lacking any compassion or forgiveness towards his former padawan. Mical, still so trusting, caring, even though she had abandoned him. Bastila Shan, eyes horrified but face brave. _You are a Jedi in my books. _Yet Svana did not feel like a Jedi, did not feel like any of the things people thought she was. She felt like a scared child who had lost her way, and everyone was blaming her or praising her.

Alek was right all along.

_I don't know if I can give you what you want, or what you need. I don't know if any of these events have a purpose to them. I am just as lost as you are._

Marr lunged forward. It was not threatening, so Svana did not sense it to dodge. The young woman grabbed her hands in her own.

"You have a wound in you," She said earnestly, "But you—you are the only one who can do this, who can settle this. I know it. I sense it. And I will follow you, wherever you go, and we will train together. This—I don't care what this is, but I will settle the score, I will avenge my people, and I know you can help me do it. _You need me._"

The Force resonated with her words. Svana was not sure what loomed over the galaxy, but she knew the Miraluka spoke the truth. She was going to need all the help she could get, at the very least because there were two Sith directly interested in her, if not more.

She squeezed back. _Alright,_ She said, to a fellow woman who had lost everything. Hopefully she might gain something while with Svana, the way Svana gained Atton. She thought of all those lonely days and nights, hiding in the shadows, doing good whenever she could but shying away from the warmth of others. _I will be your friend, sister. I will not leave you alone to fend for yourself. I will be here for you._

Marr's lips split into a heartwrenching smile. "Yes," She said quietly, "And I will be yours."

Svana rose, keeping the girl's hands in her grip. _Come. You must be hungry._

* * *

><p>Visas, as she made Svana call her, did not like Atton at all. It was clear that the Sight that her species was blessed with allowed her to see what humans could not. She had the decency to keep quiet while the two were within range, but as soon as Atton was forced to head to the cockpit to check on readings, the Miraluka instantly whirled around to Svana.<p>

"You're too good for him," The girl declared angrily, "He is a lecher. I can feel it all over his form. I would gut him for even touching me."

Unfortunately, Svana's shields were still nonexistent, which meant her reaction was felt by Atton, who was more amused than anything.

"We're going to need to work on your shields, sweetheart," He said after coming back, "And don't worry," He said to Visas, "I'm not interested in touching _you_."

_Not appropriate, Atton. Don't tease her._ Svana glared sternly at him. He raised his hands, not entirely contrite, and moved away.

Visas looked betrayed, prompting Svana to apologize. _I can't hide anything from him, I'm sorry. I don't have shields._

"That's dangerous!" She exclaimed, "What happened to your shields?"

There was a benefit, Svana realized, of having a mental bond with a person—it meant she could convey all the painful events of her life with a single thought, and not have to form them to words. Visas cycled through horror, anger and indignation, sorrow and sympathy, and back to horror again.

"I can't imagine living without the Force," Said the Miraluka, "It would be…it would be truly blinding. To do that to you…you were just a child! That is cruel! I never thought Jedi would be capable of such atrocities!"

"You better believe it," Atton drawled from down the hall. This time it was because he actually heard Visas. The Miraluka looked indignant at this, and Svana was not sure whether she should feel offended that Visas should be so hostile towards her husband, or flattered that the girl had trusted her so quickly and thoroughly that she would be willing to risk offending her. There was also the matter of Visas being absolutely correct about certain things—mainly that Atton _was _once a Sith assassin—

And that only prompted another burst of outrage from Visas, since Svana still could not hide her thoughts. Even Mical, Svana realized, had heard _that, _though he seemed more resigned about it, as if this were just as he suspected. _Oh Mical, _Svana thought before she could stop herself, _I always think of you as that bright, innocent young boy, but you have grown too over the years, haven't you?_

Mical did not respond to this.

"You think I do not know your thoughts," Visas snarled at Atton, while Svana held her head in her hands, "I can _feel _the Dark Side in you. Any mention of the fair one, and you think of all the _sick_ things you can do—"

"Girl, number one, stay out of my head. Number two, I don't _care _what _you—_"

_Alright, that's enough._ Svana raised her head, wondering wryly how long it would take for her to think some thought that she would regret—but the two were so worked up at this point that they ignored her.

"She has a great purpose, one far greater than you can possibly comprehend, and you know it! So keep your hands off her!"

"She is my _wife_, you schutta, if anything, _you _are the one we should toss out the airlock!"

"I would like to see you try!"

"You think I've never killed a woman before?"

This sparked the memory of the twi'lek bounty hunter. Svana was frozen for a moment, but then Visas launched the first attack before the Exile could even think.

The Miraluka was every bit as skilled as Svana had seen in her visions. Atton was holding back only because he had seen what Svana had been reminded of, and folded momentarily under her quick maneuvers.

"Stop it!" Mical tried to intervene. "Both of you, we are in an enclosed ship!"

Visas ignored him, swiping at Atton with her hand, propelling a Force wave along with the movement. Atton ducked, but then he seemed to collect himself, and his entire posture changed. He had Visas thrown to the other side of the mess within a blink of an eye, and Svana did not even see how he did it.

Mical threw himself between the two, and Atton's eyes darkened into a look that was truly terrifying, but Svana swallowed the fear before it could solidify and placed herself between the two men.

_Enough. You have made your point.  
><em>

"Do you stand with her or with me?" Atton asked, and the Force rocked with the gravity of his question.

Svana hesitated, but not because she was afraid of how Atton would react. Her friendship with Visas, if it could be called that, was still too new and fresh for her to be candid, and with her thoughts exposed for all to partake, it was a fragile moment.

_I promised her I will be there for her,_ She answered instead, _Please don't make a liar out of me. She cannot defeat you. We all know it. I will handle this._

She tried to send her love for him through their bond. He did not react to it, but she did sense him withdraw a little, easing out of his combative mentality.

Mical was seeing to Visas, who had hit the wall hard and was still seething. Svana went over to her, but she was fine.

"He will be the end of you," Visas hissed, "You are a kind soul, and you are just the kind of person those like _him _take advantage of."

Time to draw the boundaries. _He is my husband, you are out of line._

"Perhaps," Said the Miraluka, "But so much evil in the world happens because people are afraid of stepping out of line. I would rather bear your disapproval than risk you falling to those who do not deserve your compassion. However, I have said what I needed to say." She faced Atton, even though she had no eyes to look at him with. "Guard your darkness well, Assassin. She might be blinded by her love for you, but I am not."

"The name is _Atton,_ good grief." Atton rolled his eyes.

Visas said no more, shrugging off Mical's awkward attempt to help her, and left the mess.

"Seriously, can we—drop her off someplace?" Atton exclaimed, "I really don't want to have to put up with her for the entire trip."

"Let's just all calm down," Mical said quietly, staring steadily at Atton, as if challenging him, "We've all had a rough day, or night, depending on which planet you consider."

Svana mused that she needed to talk to Mical, since her poor shielding meant that he now knew Atton's past. Likely hearing this, Atton turned around and headed back to the cockpit. It was the first time he had willingly left the two of them alone, without any prompting on her part. He probably did not want to face another list of accusations from Mical.

The blonde, for his part, hesitated once they were alone and there was a heavy silence that hung over the two of them for long seconds.

"Everything you think, all of us can hear," He said quietly. "Not much privacy to be had that way."

_No,_ Svana agreed, but her mind had broken long ago and had yet to heal, and there was nothing to be done about the shields right now. Maybe later, she could work on it, but at the moment, _We need to talk._

"She is right, you know. I sensed the darkness in him too. I did not know the source, or how bad it was, but I sensed it."

Svana sighed. This was going to be a long conversation.


	16. Chapter 14

The Silent Maiden

Chapter 14

Atton was annoyed. It was better than being frightened, so he clung to it for all he was worth. With his wife conducting damage-control, and the course set already for the group, there was very little for him to do, so he played pazaak and tried not to listen to her thoughts as she communicated with the blonde.

_I love him…you don't see…_memories of their time together, except from _her _point of view, and it was profoundly humbling to realize what he meant to her. The transparency was going to get annoying after a while—it had started to, at this point, but more because the boy and the Miraluka were also privy to her thoughts, and that was going to get intolerable very soon. In terms of what _he _was seeing, however, there was a crushing fascination, to see those same months from her side. Winter on Bandomeer, Svana sitting in the kitchen, struggling to contain herself, that kindly Meerian Jinnia who had called him home.

Atton had no idea that Svana had been so stressed about Revan—of course, back then he had not realized she was a Jedi exile. He never associated himself with any element of gentility either, being bred an assassin and a murderer, so it was odd to realize how safe Svana felt with him most of the time. She thought him handsome, strong, funny, and sensitive, and whatever anxiety she felt would always be lessened by his closeness. At the moment, she was not necessarily afraid she would lose him, but there was always that lingering thought,_if I don't have Atton, I am nothing._

The blonde, thankfully, did not press the issue. This was one of the cases where his blind faith in his idol actually worked just to Atton's liking. With the link open at all times, he was also sure that Svana could not possibly choose him over Atton, and he also saw why. In terms of virtue, the kid had it all, but Svana could not respect that, because his virtues had never been tested. She could only love him the way a mother loves a child, or an older sibling loves a younger. The boy was too reverent of her, too willing to obey her and do anything she said without question, too willfully ignorant of the evils of the galaxy. She could only be as fond of him as a mentor would of a student. In Atton, she saw a teammate, an equal who she could depend on to disagree with her because he was different from her. Though Svana hardly thought this, the very fact that Atton lacked all the pure virtues the blonde did actually made him a better husband than Mical could ever be.

It was an interesting point, and Atton found he could live with that. His crimes were horrendous, but they were that black stain on his past that he could never wash away, so it felt more bearable to believe that there was something good about that stain, that ultimately his history would allow him to care for his wife better than anyone else. One might even call it justification. Atton had no compunction doing so. As the Miraluka said, he still had that darkness in him. He was not going to pretend it was not there, or that it would ever truly go away. Might as well put it to use.

After a long discussion, which Svana was not convinced had convinced Mical, his wife came wearily to the cockpit to check on him.

"I'm fine," He said, and for a moment her thoughts spun as she worried whether Visas Marr was feeling abandoned—_I should check on her after making sure Atton is _really _alright—_"No seriously, I'm fine. Go check on that girl. I meant what I said about dropping her off somewhere, though."

_Can't do that, _Svana said apologetically, _She signed up and I promised to be there for her._

Atton managed not to frown. As proud as he was of his young wife for being the only Jedi in the galaxy to actually embody their principles, he did wish she would bend a little now and then. Situations change. Promises have to be broken sometimes. Still, Svana was worried about Visas, and she did feel a connection with the young woman. Ultimately, the thing that frustrated him now about her was what he loved the most. He let out a breath. "Fine."

She came by and gave him a kiss. He patted her cheek, before returning to his game. Svana left the cockpit to seek out Visas, thoughts now wry. _How to tell her off my husband without hurting feelings…_

_Right. Good luck with that. _Atton's lips quirked a little. Sometimes his wife was just so adorable.

* * *

><p>The rest of their journey was awkward. Svana went to bed again, and with her connection open to everyone, Atton could not very well do what he wanted to do. She ended up not being in the mood anyway, as was clear from her wry thoughts. She tried not to dwell on the Miraluka's accusations, but while she did not seem to trust Atton any less for them, she was unhappy for his sake. He joined her after a while when he realized Visas was not in the bunks, but did not go to sleep.<p>

There was once a time when Atton would have rejoiced in the deaths of the Jedi, but now he felt overwhelmed. It was probably what his wife was feeling too, as curiously empty as she seemed right now. Too much of a shock, to come up with an appropriate response, even emotionally. She was dodging emotion, avoiding what had happened. Perhaps not the most noble of reactions, but he could understand. She had a cruel shock once before, of losing all of her men in order to win a war. What happened on Katarr was largely unrelated to her. Svana had no responsibility for it, so why take the burden of grief and mourning and horror for something that she had no connection to? But they all did feel the sense of impending destiny—Visas Marr was not the only one who knew Svana was destined for great things, and the consumption of Katarr, or whatever that should be called, marked the end of their anonymous existence and the beginning of their fates.

Svana wanted that as much as Atton did, which was not at all.

"We're going to have to do something about those mental shields," He whispered to himself as he stared up at the top of the bunk.

Surprisingly, his bride was actually awake, though mentally silent until then.

_I should ask Mical or Visas, maybe they can help._

"You do that." Hopefully those two prove to be of _some _use. Atton turned his head to look at Svana in the darkness as silence descended again, and he saw that her eyes were wide open, staring back.

_The Jedi are gone, _She thought to him. _I can't believe it._

He gathered her into his arms. "We'll be alright."

_They were there since the beginning. I never thought it would be possible that they would not be there at the very end._

"Not everyone is gone. That ice princess, what's her name, Bastila?"

Her arms circled around him as well. _At least she is still here._

"She needs to work on her attitude."

_She is not a people-person._ Svana was quiet for a moment. _What is going to happen to the galaxy now? Without the Jedi…and at least four Sith Lords—Bastila cannot do this on her own!_

"Maybe the Jedi were wiped out because they were no good," Atton said without much compassion, but he kissed her forehead. "You need to get rid of this blind spot you have for them, sweetheart."

_They made mistakes. They didn't deserve to be slaughtered._ Her response was tearful, even as a thought.

"No," Atton allowed, "But weren't the Jedi the ones that said, 'There is no death, there is the Force'?"

Svana did not mentally respond at first, but Atton was treated to the memory of Malachor V, the sheer emptiness that she felt, when all those bright beings were suddenly _gone._

_Maybe that is one thing the Jedi could not_ know. _Maybe they told us that in the hopes that it would be easier for us to go to our deaths, to sacrifice ourselves for others._

_Maybe that was why they were willing to abandon the galaxy during the Mandalorian wars. After all, no one was dying. Everyone was entering the Force.  
><em>

The last thought was bitter, and unlike Svana. Disregarding their potential eavesdroppers, Atton leaned his head forward and kissed her, long and slow. He felt her relax in his arms, and her thoughts faded.

_That's my girl, _Atton thought.

* * *

><p>Mical tried to teach Svana how to shield her thoughts. It was a long, arduous process that tested even Svana's patience, and seemed to require more time than she had stamina for. Atton found her in the mess hall, tired and disheartened.<p>

"We _are _blocking you," He heard Visas say as he entered from the corridor, "And from what I can tell, the connection is only between the four of us. You were grievously wounded in the past. It will take time for you to relearn what you once knew. Do not lose courage."

Svana nodded.

Atton, who had no idea _how _to block his wife, considered momentarily if he should ask—but he would either have to ask Visas, who looked like helping him was the last thing she ever wanted to do short of consorting with the Sith that destroyed her homeworld, or Blondie, who was the last person _Atton _ever wanted help from.

"In the meantime, perhaps you can tackle something new. There is no reason for you to be so…silent. Maybe the key is to get use to communicating aloud, instead of through thoughts and gestures."

_What I've been trying to get her to do,_ Atton thought with some annoyance.

"You spoke aloud when you told us to go to M4-78," Visas pointed out. "I…don't know if you realized that."

_I might have,_ Svana's mental tones carried a thoughtful quality, _But it feels so unnatural. I don't know why. My throat just closes up when I try. I have to be very distracted, somehow. I don't know._ She paused_. __I don't know why you keep talking of purpose. My purpose…I use to know, but the Force is so complex, and the tides of events change so drastically. I wandered for years as a human wraith, my heart and mind shattered. Now I can't even shield my thoughts. I am even afraid to think, now. All the things I have seen, the darkness in me that I try to sequester away…what good am I to the galaxy, especially at a time like this?_

Visas sounded equally thoughtful. "You must have been impressive indeed, to feel so inadequate now in comparison. One wonders if the Jedi Order felt threatened by you, and that was their true motive.

Svana was a bit startled by this suggestion. _Threatened by a padawan who turned herself in?_

"They would punish you when you were little more than a child," Visas sounded vaguely angry. At least in this particular circumstance, she and Atton were of the same mind. "They might as well have murdered you."

Svana was upset by this, and though she made no mental reply—Atton wondered how she did that, because that must have meant she was intentionally not _thinking_—he could sense her unhappiness, and knew Visas could too.

The Miraluka seemed to consider the subject closed for the time being, however, so Svana left the table to seek a hug from Atton. He gave her a long kiss on the forehead, sensing her faint headache, and held her for a while. The kiss soothed her, and she remained in his arms longer than she would have otherwise, taking strength from him.

"How about we do something fun, babe," He suggested, "You need to take a break, one that doesn't involve worrying about Force nonsense." _Some innocent fun, anyway._ He certainly did not intend to try _other _kinds of fun, whether or not the blonde and the Miraluka were blocking. "Cards?"

Visas was too despondent for frivolity, and Svana had the good sense not to invite Blondie, so it was just between the two of them, like old times. If they had not been in space, Atton would have gone out with her to talk a stroll outside.

_Force, I miss Bandomeer._

But as soon as the game started, Atton discovered it was not _quite _like old times.

_9 plus 7 is 16, minus 1…_

At first he said nothing, because he did not want to stress her; the point was to make her _forget _about her current Force situation, after all. He even allowed her to win some games by pointedly ignoring what she was thinking. It was almost like she was invading his thoughts, which was preposterous, of course, but her mind was distracting, and he started using his own tricks almost instinctively, thinking hard about his own cards instead of hers. When he thought of it that way, it was not actually that hard to block her mind. He had lots of practice blocking Jedi from his thoughts, back when he had been—

_Wait a minute…_

Atton suddenly reached out to grab her hand. "Svana, I got an idea."

* * *

><p>Svana picked up his trick like a natural. It was not an adequate mental shield for a more pointed attack, as Visas was quick to point out, but it sufficed on an adequate level for daily purposes, since it provided enough of a distraction that no one could really get to what she was really thinking unless they searched hard enough. The whole point of Atton's 'counting cards method', as he began calling it, was to fool another Force-user into thinking there was nothing to search <em>for<em>.

Svana had a different take on the method, which was not entirely surprising; she was known as the Silent Maiden once upon a time, but Atton was still taken-aback by what he could only describe as mental white noise, layering over her thoughts like a blanket underneath the card-counting. She had a lot of material to use; various math equations she had learned as a padawan, formulas, map of a dingy neighborhood she had been in, and sometimes the layout of their apartment on Bandomeer, though Atton was pointedly absent.

In fact, everyone was pointedly absent. Even the Meerians.

_I fear I will become a target, however worthy I am,_ Svana pointed out, _With the Jedi on Katarr…I am one of the few that are connected to the Order, however faintly. I do not wish to point out anyone close to me._

It was a reasonable precaution, when Atton really thought about it, and he had to remind himself that once upon a time, Svana was a_general_.

_Force, Kdan Kylin._ Sometimes it was difficult to wrap his mind around the idea, even as right as it felt. He was so use to just thinking of Svana as his bride.

"I have a feeling we are not the only ones going there," Mical noted, "Do you think your method would be enough?"

_It is a start,_ Svana thought unhappily.

"We might need a lightsaber more than we need to shield her mind," Visas pointed out.

Svana waved her hand. She was not interested in using lightsabers, Atton sensed, though her thoughts gave no voice to the matter. She then signed instead of thinking.

'Blastor enough for now, if meet enemy, run. Lightsabor more dangerous without training. No chance win duel.'

_Fair enough,_ Atton thought.

* * *

><p>M4-78 was a drab-looking planet. Legend had it that the planet used to be lush and rich with all kinds of resources, from ore and fossil fuels to flora and fauna. After the Sith took over the planet, however, it quickly dried up and withered, as all things touched by the Dark Side did. Svana had the ship hover in orbit for a while as Visas scanned the surface. The young Miraluka was stoic, though the shadowed Force could not be easy for her to see through.<p>

"There is no sentient life on this planet," She announced to everyone.

"That's not ominous at all."

_There is no sentient population,_ Svana's voice sounded troubled. _However, I do sense we must search the surface._

_That is such a great idea,_ Atton thought wryly. "Why do we have to go on the surface? Surely we can wait for whoever it is from the ship.

_I don't know,_ Svana looked at him, _But we should go down._

He could sense her certainty of _that_, unfortunately.

"I have a bad feeling about this."

_So do I._

"Well, we best be on our guard, then," The blonde kid remarked.

Visas was already heading out to retrieve her blasters. Svana kissed Atton on the cheek and left him to pilot them down into the atmosphere. He heaved a sigh, hoping that his bad feeling would not result it _no _more feelings, and set to work.

Svana came back to the cockpit while they were in descent and directed him north, where they beheld a monstrous factory stretching across the landscape. Atton landed on the landing pad on the roof and turned off the engines. Svana handed him a stealth generator and two blasters. She had exchanged her dress for a suit that functioned as a thermoregulating unit. It was kind of loose on her, and Atton had to stop and marvel at how slender she was. _Man, is it her Jedi training?_

Visas had also changed, wearing the same suit. Blondie was opening the hatch to lower the ramp. The Miraluka seemed to glare at Atton while they waited. He breathed out a huff. This was going to get old _really _fast.

_Atton, you take point,_ Svana instructed, _Visas will monitor the area with her Sight. Mical and I will bring up the rear._

"But who will protect me from the crazy lady?"

Svana frowned at him. _Do not provoke her, Husband._

"You overestimate him if you think he is capable of provoking me with something like _that_," Visas drawled. "Or perhaps, you underestimate _me_."

"I'll take point," Atton sighed.

The roof was flat, and in the distance Atton could see the door that led into the building. It was a set of double doors, made of glass that was covered with dirt. The quartet moved to it, with Svana and Blondie checking behind them frequently. Even though there was no apparent life on the roof or anywhere else, there was the real sense that they were being watched.

The doors were partially open, and with a push, Atton slid them all the way. Inside was a lobby of sorts, with a large staircase leading down the middle. Though there were no bodies, there was a heavy sense of death, and the air smelled like old oil.

Svana was the last to step through the door. She stopped instantly. _I sense something._

Atton had no idea what she might have sensed. Her words sent a spike of alarm through him.

_I think a Jedi was here. I sense an imprint._

"Me too," Visas agreed. "But whoever it is, I do not think he is still here."

_Or she._ Svana frowned. _And I do not know if this Jedi was here before or after Katarr._

Visas did not lose her composure. Atton had to give her credit for that, even if he would never admit it.

They went down the stairs, footprints appearing behind them in the thick dust.

"Man, this is creepy," Atton commented. "I think this is the creepiest place I've ever been to. Feel like there are ghosts around, and I don't even believe in ghosts."

They turned when the stairway wound around. Atton barely managed to duck back when a blaster bolt sailed right past him. He swore as a rain of them came flying and scorching the walls.

"Looks like the droids are still on," Blondie observed.

"No kidding, genius! Miraluka, why didn't you warn us?"

"I did not sense them until the second they turned on. What _are _they?"

"This is a droid factory, what do you _think_?"

Atton then heard a clanging that sounded disturbingly like metal legs scuttling across the floor.

"Fall back!"

Svana was already heaving Visas back up the stairs. Atton and Blondie stayed to shoot the oncoming droids. One of them crumpled under a well-aimed bolt, another faltered a bit but kept coming.

Svana and Visas were shooting from above, causing some of the droids to aim towards them instead. How the Miraluka could aim was beyond Atton. _How are there this many droids?_

Then the Miraluka waved out an arm, causing a whole line of them to be sent flying.

_Oh Force, stupid Jedi Force wave,_ Atton shook his head, reminding himself that Visas was not actually a Jedi. Just a Force-sensitive humanoid species. That happened to know Force tricks. _Schuttas._

Visas summoned another Force wave, and Svana took out three droids with three blaster bolts. She had always been a good shot, and Blondie proved that he was worth at least _something _when he followed suit by felling two more droids. Atton took out the last, and quiet descended. There was smoke everywhere and the walls were almost completely blackened.

"Why were the droids turned on?" Blondie asked. "This place is supposed to be shut down."

_Someone must have turned them on,_ Svana replied.

"The Jedi?" Atton asked.

_Maybe._ Svana sounded dubious.

She hopped over the railing to jump down to the lower steps, forcing Atton to run to catch up with her.

They came across a closed glass door, but on the other side they could make out more droids, scuttling around, waiting for something to kill.

"Really?" Atton turned to sneer at Visas, "You did not sense these guys _at all_?"

_Atton,_ Svana warned, _Stop this at once._

"There must be something we can use to shut them down," Blondie looked around, "I saw cameras earlier, some of them not working, but if there is a main control room, we should be able to access the camera feeds, if not all of the droids."

That was actually a good suggestion, and the quartet dispersed slightly to look around for any maps that might be painted on the walls, or at least a sign indicating what floors contained which rooms. Visas was of no help, which was not a surprise to anyone, but it was Blondie who found a sign that pointed to the security office on the first floor.

"That's probably where all the camera feeds go," He said. "What floor are we on?"

They were on the thirteenth floor.

"Great," Atton looked around, "This just keeps getting better and better."

"_Must _you maintain a running commentary?" Visas snapped.

_Everyone!_ This time it was Svana, _Do we need to go back to the ship to calm down?_

This made everyone draw in collectively.

Svana took a deep breath. _Look,_ and she signed, 'We not safe. Need find someone. Work together important. Continue argument when safe again.'

She glared at Atton then. 'All of us are nervous. No need make worse.'

"Fine," Atton sighed.

'Now,' Svana signed, 'We better make our way there.'

Despite the number of floors, they made their way to the security office with only one encounter. The security office had a panel on the wall that indicated that the control room that operated the droids was actually five floors above.

Svana gestured, 'Someone should stay this room, monitor cameras. Rest go to control room.'

It was either Svana, Atton, or Blondie. Atton was not going to let his wife roam the halls with the other two.

'Mical," Svana patted the boy's shoulder, 'You talk through comm.'

He nodded. "Of course. I'll let you know what's ahead."

They found a blueprint of the building and spent a few minutes figuring out how to interpret it, since a lot of the symbols used were not entirely intuitive. There was a path that led away from the bulk of the droids, but did not avoid them entirely. Another option was to go through the ventilation shafts, but those things were not maneuverable and if anything went wrong, they were dead.

'Mical keep track, everyone follow this path,' Svana pointed, 'Go?'

"Right," Atton nodded.

Svana touched Visas on the arm. _Keep your senses alert. You may not be able to sense the droids as clearly as sentients, but the Force is in all things, and droids mean danger. Danger you can sense._

"Yes, Svana."

"Alright," Atton checked his blaster, "Let's do this. And if you mess this up, Blondie, don't think I won't come after you."

_Atton,_ Svana sighed, but Atton winked at her, and she smiled reluctantly.

"I'll see if I can find any more information in these computers," The kid assured everyone, "Will keep in touch."

_Will do.__ Good luck._

The boy gave Svana a strange look at that remark, but Svana was already heading out the door, and Atton rushed to catch up with her, leaving Visas to trail behind.


	17. Chapter 15

The Silent Maiden

Chapter 15

Visas, despite her bravado, was very scared. Svana could sense her struggling to keep calm. She was powerful in the Force, but she had never been in such danger before. She had spent her entire life safe among family and friends, living an almost idyllic life. The exile reached out to squeeze the Miraluka's hand in reassurance. They were going to be fine; even back when Svana had no Force, a couple of droids was easy enough to deal with.

They came across a few rooms with the same armed droids. Atton and Svana took out the bulk of them while Visas used her Force wave to dispatch with the rest. Mical was had found the droid control-room, so the only issue was getting to it.

"Seriously Blondie, can you go _any _slower?" Atton complained.

Mical did not respond.

"What do you see in him?" Visas demanded, keeping her voice low so Atton would not hear. "Any man would be better than him. Even Mical."

Svana could not help but feel a spike of repulsion at the thought. _Mical is like a brother to me._

_"You need to make a right as soon as you leave that door. Yes, that door. Go down two doors, make a left, then go straight ahead. The control room should be to your left. I believe the doors are open."_

"You better be right about this, kid." Atton turned to the two. "Alright, you heard him. Let's go."

Svana allowed Atton to take point again, bringing up the rear. As soon as they stepped into the corridor, however, there was a slam as a set of doors sealed shut.

"Not good!" Atton dashed ahead. "Svana! Run!"

Visas was grabbing Svana's elbow even as Svana dove into the sprint. The Miraluka's speed enhanced Svana's own, and they went after Atton like a bullet just as turrets abruptly lowered from the ceiling.

"Sith, you _brat_, were you trying to get us killed?"

_"Just get to the control room! Quickly!"_

"Who designs the security office without any control over the droids, man?"

"Quit talking!" Visas had rushed ahead, pulling Svana along. They almost missed their turn, and dove into the control room just as a blaster bolt seared into Svana's side. She bit back the scream, but they felt it anyway.

"Svana!" Atton grabbed her before she could crumple while Visas shut the door. There was a thump, as a blaster bolt hit the wall outside. Atton helped Svana stagger further into the room.

_"Exile!"_

"Krethspit, Blondie! What were you doing there?"

_"I had no idea there were turret guns in the ceiling! They weren't there in all the other corridors!"_

"Well that's probably because these guys wanted to arm the bloody _control room_ you moron!"

'Stop!' Svana gestured wildly, choking on the pain. 'Arguing no use! Control! Go!'

Atton swore, managing to support her while heading over to the control panels. He instantly set to work slicing into a computer. Visas pressed a hand against the wound.

"Here, let me," Said the girl, and Svana sensed the Force swell gently and feed into the wound. Visas was not a good healer, but the pain did become bearable.

"We need to wrap this to prevent infection."

"Shutting down the turrets." There was a whir just after a blaster bolt actually went clean through the wall and flew across the room, missing all of them but hitting a lever, melting it instantly.

"What about the droids?" Visas asked.

"Will work on it." Atton went from the computer to join Visas.

"Here, sit down," The Miraluka helped Svana lower herself onto a chair.

_"Uh, you folks might not want to stay there for too long."_

"What _now_?"

_"We have company."_

There was a moment of silence.

"What do you mean, company?" Visas blinked. "I do not sense anything."

_"I did not either, but there are thermal cameras alongside the regular ones, and a cloaked ship just landed on the roof."_

"Cloaked?"

"Don't worry, Svana," Atton sounded strangely calm, "We're going to get out of here, I promise."

Svana was more worried about Mical. He was all by himself in the security office. _Mical, come and join us. I don't want you there alone._

_"I'll be fine. I'll give you updates on company. Stealth generators don't hide infrared."_

_No, Mical, it's not worth it. They'll target you._

_"I have my eye on them, don't worry. I am counting about twenty people coming out of the ship._

"What about _our _ship? Are they doing anything to it?"

Mical was silent for a moment. _"They appear to be considering it. Atton, why don't you program the droids to target them? That could buy us some time."_

_Good idea._

Atton seemed annoyed by this, but he did not comment, silently stalking over to the computer to see what he could do. Svana winced. It had been a while since she had been hurt. She looked down at the wound, wondering just what the bolt had penetrated.

_"They are ignoring the ship."_

"That's a relief," Said Visas. "We need to get this wrapped. Is there a first aid kit around here?"

Svana looked. The Force seemed to be on their side, for there was, indeed, a dusty old first aid kit. Everything in it was expired, but the bandages and the salve were still usable.

"Kid, any ID on who our guests are?" Atton asked while Visas helped wrap the wound.

There was a long moment of silence, before Mical's voice transmitted, thick with unhappiness. _"Darth Malak is among them."_

_Oh no, _Svana thought with a spike of real fear. Visas squeezed her shoulder in response.

Atton swore. "Great. Sith. Just what we need. Well, the droids will slow them down at least, and then we need to get out of here."

"How?" Visas demanded, "Our ship is on the roof. They are coming _from the roof._ If we run we have to go down, but it is only a matter of time before they find us!"

Svana struggled to control her panic. Alek knew her Force signature. They had fought together during the war. He knew her well enough…but maybe her Force signature was weaker now? Maybe he would not recognize it as well. As for the others, there was little to be done about that. _Oh Force, I am going to be sick…_

"Svana, don't worry, we're not letting him get you. _Schuttas,_ I wish the stupid Sith Lords would focus on each other for a change…alright, droids reprogrammed, Blondie, please tell us there are some speeders or something we can use to make a quick getaway."

_"There's a lower hangar on this floor. I'll join you at the stairs."_

"Svana, let me carry you."

Svana would have protested, but Atton lifted her up so easily that it really was probably better for her to be carried than to struggle on her own.

_I don't want him to kill me, _Svana thought desperately. She was not afraid of death, even if she did not want to leave Atton, but Alek had been a friend, however mild the usage was. He was hardly the affectionate sort; no one among the Jedi was really that affectionate, but she had trusted him, and he had honored that, and once upon a time they shared that bond of understanding, of fighting on the same side, for all their disagreements. He had loudly voiced his doubts about her abilities and readiness to fight in the war, and Kylin had been irritated to no end—but he would not have done that if he had not cared at all about her, and the fact that he might kill her now, that the man she called brother placed no value in their past—the thought made her want to cry.

Atton moved quickly, not responding to her wild thoughts. No one did, even though she knew they heard them. She clung to her husband, feeling each step of his long strides, watching over his shoulder in case something sneaked up behind them.

Mical was at the staircase on the first floor, and he led the way to the hangar without hesitation.

"Logs show that there are speeders there, I am not sure if they are operable. If not, there is still an exit we can use, so we can leave the factory and see what cover the environment gives us."

"This place is a freaking wasteland, kid, where exactly would we find cover?"

"We will address that if that is indeed an issue," Visas interjected.

Mical suddenly whipped out a blaster, holding out an arm to stop everyone else. Svana jerked her head around to look at what alarmed him.

It was the woman. She wore a drab brown robe with a hood over her head, two braids tied with golden bands trailing out. Much of her face was hidden by the hood, leaving only part of her nose and her thin lips exposed. There was no Force presence that Svana could sense…and that was what was the most alarming.

"Peace, Tiny Jedi," The woman drawled, "I am not the one you must fear, here. We have no time to dawdle; we must make haste. The dark ones make their way here."

Mical lowered his arm before Svana could tell him to do so. Atton drew back, clutching Svana tightly to him.

"How do we know we can trust you?" He demanded.

Though the woman's eyes were obscured under her hood, Svana could feel the weight of her regard.

"The same way you ascertain the truth of anything," She murmured, "By trusting in the Force. Is that not so, Exile?"

_We came looking for her,_ Svana reminded Atton.

Her husband was very displeased, but he followed Mical who had joined the old woman. Visas came right after.

"You have a way off this dump, old lady?" Atton asked.

The old woman did not dignify his question with a response. Instead, she went to a console to open the doors to the hangar, and then led them to an old ship that barely looked like it was holding itself together. Atton balked, but Svana silently urged him on. Though drab-looking, the ship was in no danger of actually falling apart; this much, she was sure. Visas, who could not see the ship, walked up fearlessly, while Mical only went because Atton did.

Atton took the pilot's seat and had the thing off the ground just as the Sith came charging in. He had deposited Svana in the co-pilot's seat, and together they maneuvered from the hangar just as one of the apprentices tried throwing a lightsaber at the thrusters. It missed when Atton tilted the ship, and they were out into the open air. He pushed the levers forward at full throttle, blasting through the stratosphere and into the dark of space. Svana was just about to release a sigh of relief when a shadow suddenly folded over her senses.

_Kylin._

She froze in terror. Revan's voice was almost unrecognizable. It thundered in her mind like a crashing tsunami, vibrating through her bones.

_You cannot escape me, Kylin._

He was as powerful as ever—even more so, now that he was older and versed in more than one side of the Force. She felt him seize on that old loneliness, that black wound that seeped and pulsated ever since Malachor, and all at once she was feeling the deaths of all of her men all over again, the agony of a planet being decimated at her command. As if from far away, she could sense the cries of her husband and friends, their Force signatures reaching out to her an a fruitless effort to help block Revan's attack. Before her on the viewscreens, she could see the blackness expanse of space, and dimly, the shadowed outline of another ship—Revan's ship.

A new presence materialized along a bond she was not even aware existed. It was grey, not bright and innocent like Visas or Mical's, but more like Atton's, tinged with darkness and bitterness with only a little bit of light within it. While Atton's light had been his love for the Jedi who saved him, and his greater adoration of Svana, this one's light had a much more obscure source, one that in her pain, Svana could not begin to examine.

_Darth Revan,_ The old woman's voice resonated, _You have grown since you were a padawan, but even now you fail to find the truth. This one is not yours to claim. Begone._

Revan's presence was _ripped _from Svana's—the ship shuddered as it entered hyperspace, and the screams of Malachor went abruptly silent. Svana was almost falling out of her chair, clothes drenched with sweat and wound starting to bleed at her side.

* * *

><p>"You are early," Said the old woman, while Mical cleaned her wound in the med bay.<p>

"What the Sith are you talking about?" Her husband glared, "And who the hell are you? How did you do what you just did?"

"I am not obligated to answer _your_ questions," The woman spat, "Only hers."

Svana felt faint, and her mind was slow. _You saved me,_ She thought to the woman, assuming she would hear despite having no reason to yet.

The woman did not react at first. "You do not speak. Why is that?"

"Why _should _she talk to you?"

"Silence, Fool. This is no concern of yours."

"Sorry, old lady, anything to do with my wife _is _a concern of mine."

The woman snapped her head around to face him.

"Your wife."

"Yeah. Married." Atton raised his hand, where the ring sat innocently on his finger. The old woman did not appear to notice, for she was turning her head back to face Svana again.

"_Foolish girl_," She hissed, and her anger made her aura turn black. "You would give yourself to _this _pathetic life-form?" She was so furious, she was reaching out with her arms to grab Svana by the arms even as Mical was disinfecting the wound.

Svana's own temper rose as those wrinkly hands closed around her limbs. She had been battling with Mical and Visas for so long, she did _not _want to deal with this newcomer. The added sting of the disinfectant added to the strength of her blow. She backhanded the old woman hard enough to send her tumbling to the floor.

Mical paused what he was doing. Atton wasted no time turning and grabbing the old woman himself. He heaved her up by her robes and crushed her to one of the walls.

_Atton!_ Svana called out, dismayed by her own attack—she did not want to see her husband turn into the Jaq that had pummeled the twi'lek bounty hunter. He seemed to sense this, for she saw his shoulders ripple, as if restraining himself.

"Listen, you old hag," He growled, "Touch my wife again, and I will cut off your hands and stuff them in your _face_."

From her angle, Svana could not see the woman's face, but the voice that replied sounded almost coy.

"So the murderer shows his face. I wonder if the Exile has seen you in your full colors. Would she be so quick to defend you then?"

"Newsflash, lady. _She __has seen me already._ So _back off._"

Svana was frowning. The woman seemed to know more about Atton within the first hour of their meeting than Svana knew in a year. She had also torn Revan from Svana when Svana herself could not. Was she some fallen Jedi?

Silence descended for a few seconds.

"Your mind," The woman murmured, "Where are your mental shields?"

There was another silence.

_Clearly, she can hear my thoughts too,_ Svana thought wryly, before responding mentally, _I have not been able to build them. I just got the Force back recently._ In the dark of space, it was hard to gauge for how long. _Who are you? What do you want?_

The woman exhaled a breath through her nose. "You are early," She said again, "Some wounds heal only when they will. In the meantime, I suppose the barrier made by those who have bonded with you will do." She turned her face to Atton. "_You _may unhand me. Of those of us here, I pose the least danger to…" She said the next part with distaste, "_Your bride_."

Atton held her for a bit longer, as if to make a point, before releasing her with a thrust. The old woman adjusted her robes, but otherwise seemed unruffled.

_What is your name?_ Svana asked.

"I am Kreia." The woman folded her arms.

_I saw you, when Katarr was destroyed._

"And I you. You are not ready to re-enter the galaxy as it needs you."

_I am early,_ Svana partially echoed Kreia's words. _So you have said, a few times. What do you mean by that?_

"There is a darkness coming. It stretches across the galaxy, consuming all in its path. You were meant to face it only when there is little left, after you have matured." Kreia paused. "But we will follow the Force's will, as we must."

_What about you? What is your part in all of this?_

For the first time, Kreia lifted her head enough that Svana could see her eyes. The woman was blind, she realized. The eyes were atrophied into nothing but pale flesh, without any of the usual ocular components that made up the organs.

"I wish to see the galaxy restored. Is that so hard to believe?"

Svana frowned. _It is not if you were telling the truth._

The old woman drew back a little at this, as if retreating. "I am no threat to you, Exile."

Svana felt her wound, that wound Revan had seized earlier as they were escaping the planet, pulsate at the name. _Exile._ She reached for Atton, who took her hand and squeezed.

_Keep your secrets, then,_ She told Kreia, _But harm my comrades, and you will know what it was that defeated the Mandalorians._

Kreia's thin wrinkly lips tightened into a smile at this. She turned around without another word and left the med bay. Mical was wrapping a bandage around her wound.

"Can we really trust her?" He asked.

_She was not telling the truth before, but she was when she said she was no threat to us._

"She specifically said _you_, I think," Atton made a face.

_And I specifically warned her off the rest of you._

"Do you think that will be enough?"

Malachor hovered before her eyes, billions of lives, Force signatures bright with blood-lust. She shuddered at the decision she had made.

_She knows I would be willing to do it._ After living with Atton, Svana could not bear going back to the life of only exile. She would destroy Kreia, even if she destroyed herself.

Atton's arms were around her, with Mical retreated a safe distance.

"Hey, sweetheart," Atton leaned so his cheek touched hers, "You're here now. That's right, babe."

She shut her eyes and leaned into his warmth.

* * *

><p>"I <em>hate <em>this," Visas hissed when Svana came out to the mess. Mical was cleaning up in the med bay, and Atton was at the new cockpit. Kreia seemed to have secluded herself to one of the cabins, for she was nowhere to be found either.

"I get that Rand is your husband, however that came to be, but that woman, Kreia. Just what is her part in all of this?"

_I do not like this either,_ Svana thought, unable to avoid it. The old woman would just have to accept that if she heard. _She does have a vital role, I feel. Sometimes life does not leave us with good choices._

"Is that why you chose Rand?"

_You know why I chose Rand,_ Svana frowned disapprovingly at the miraluka, even if the girl could not see it.

Visas grabbed her face in a fit of nerves. "I don't trust these people."

She was still scared. She was strong in the Force, but while Svana sensed no danger from either Atton or Kreia, Visas must be sensing something else. Sensing, perhaps, that both Atton and Kreia were willing to sacrifice Visas for their purposes.

She felt a swell of pity. Visas had gone from a cheerful girl, well-loved and well-protected, to all alone in the galaxy save for Svana. Why she hooked herself to the former Jedi, Svana could not say, but she felt she must honor this trust.

_I know,_ She thought to her, _I am sorry._

"I miss home," Visas mumbled, voice breaking into something like a sob, and she hunched down, veiled head further covered by her hands.

The wound was sore, but Svana leaned over anyway, enveloping the girl in her arms.

"I miss Mama. I miss Papa."

_I know._

Visas circled her arms around Svana to cling back to her, and they stayed like that for a long time, Svana giving Visas strength the way Atton had given Svana earlier. Mical came out and stopped, looking at them with a discomfited expression.

_'She alright?' _He mouthed. Svana smiled sadly at him.

Visas released Svana to face Mical. "We need to figure out what to do about that old woman."

"I don't see what we can do. Ky—Svana said we can trust her."

"Svana does not need a mindless droid obeying her every order," Visas said with disgust, much to Svana's surprise. "We can trust her for _now_, but the future is always in motion. Who is to say that the old woman would not turn on us later? And besides, while she may not be a physical threat, you and I both sensed her when she dispelled the Sith's attack earlier. Her motives are not pure."

Mical blinked. "I do not obey her every order," He said softly, "And yes, I agree that Kreia motives are not pure."

Svana looked at Mical with surprise. She could not help but think his response was out of character. The Mical she knew would have ignored Visas' jab altogether.

"We have to work with her for now, however," Mical went on, "Whoever she is, she is important to what we have to do. For all we know, she might know how to fell the Sith."

"She might _be _a Sith."

"If so, they tend to betray each other anyway."

Visas was silent at this.

There was a sudden beeping from one of the consoles in the mess. Visas helped Svana to it. They considered the signal for a moment, before Svana reached out to press the button in order to answer it. Bastila's hologram flickered.

_"Oh, good. Only the fifth ship I tried."_

Svana tried to gauge where the Jedi was, but the hologram only revealed Bastila's person, not her surroundings.

_Where are you?_ She wondered, before realizing that Bastila was not part of the mental network—_And it is so strange that it really _is _a network…_and took her arm from Visas to gesture. 'Where you?'

_"The planet you just left," _Bastila scowled, _"Revan's on your tail. Force, you always had a way of getting attention, but this is ridiculous. There are four Sith Lords after you from what I can tell."_

Visas tightened her grip on Svana, and Svana could feel the young woman's fear spike. She sent a wave of comfort along the bond. The odds did not look good, but this was a big galaxy, and they were an interesting group.

'Explain,' She signed.

_"Revan wants you for some reason I cannot fathom," _Bastila began, _"All I know is, it's something big. I am not sure if it has to do with your role in the Mandalorian Wars. He might want you for your power, but he already has Malak. I have no idea how Sith Lords think. He might want you as his apprentice, because the orders are that he wants you alive."_

'How you know?'

_"Found some other knights, we managed to engage a few Sith acolytes."_

'Knight survive?' Svana straightened despite the stress this put on her wound.

_"Some. They do not know I am in contact with you."_

Svana blinked, feeling strangely bereft. 'Why?' She wanted to see another Jedi's face. After Katarr, she needed to know there were other survivors.

Bastila shook her head. _"You do not know them. Frankly, neither do I. I do not know exactly what is at work here, but I do know that your best advantage right now is the fact that no one really knows where you are and what you look like. If you emerge too early, that can be disastrous, for both you and the galaxy."_

_You are early, _Kreia had said. Svana considered everything and quickly linked Kreia's reaction to the news that she was married to the rest. Her setup at Malachor, Revan letting her go, the Jedi Council, someone deleting her from all records, and when Kreia had thrown Revan from her mind…Kreia must have _known _Revan, because she had addressed him with such familiarity—

_I was meant to be exiled._

It was all part of a plan. He had set her up at Malachor. Though he had protested when she told him she was leaving, he allowed her to go when he killed anyone else who chose to "defect". When the Jedi Council exiled her, he could have reached out to her, but he did not. Instead, he allowed her to disappear into ignominy. Someone then took the trouble to delete her entirely…_Could it have been Master Kavar? _So that she might wander in exile undisturbed. Kreia mentioned that she was not ready to re-enter the galaxy as it needed her…which meant Kreia, at least, was expecting Svana to re-enter the galaxy eventually. Everything seemed to have been _anticipated_. The only thing no one seemed to expect was that she would marry Atton.

Bastila was going on while Svana mused. _"Revan and Malak I am trying to track down with the others, but it seems they intend to go wherever you go, since they are seeking _you _out. We will have to work together."_

'Then I should meet these knights.'

Bastila shook her head again. _"I cannot risk that. You are also being chased by two other Sith, one Darth Sion and Darth Nihilus, and they are following wherever _we _go; somehow they figured out that my group is showing up wherever your group went. So we are all chasing after each other. If any of the knights get left behind, I do not want either of those Sith to know how to track you."_

'Sion already see me.'

Bastila muttered an oath. _"Well, Nihilus has not, and the interesting thing about these two lords is that they seem to be working against each other. I thought we had more of a start, ugh. In any case, given what happened with the Revanchist, I don't want to risk one of the others falling and betraying you."_

Svana frowned at this. 'Why I so important?'

_"You're joking, right? Four Sith Lords are after you, and you are asking me why I want you hidden? Though one of the Sith Lords is not after you directly, from accounts. One of the other knights found an acolyte who let slip that he wanted his miraluka girl."_

Visas stiffened, and an arm circled around Svana's waist, forgetting her wound. Despite the pain, Svana allowed it.

Bastila blinked when the miraluka came within the range of the holographic field. She had never seen Visas before _"…And there's the miraluka girl. Explains a lot."_

"What does Nihilus want with Visas?" Mical asked.

_"I have absolutely no idea. Is she powerful in the Force?"_

'Yes.'

_"Well there you go."_

"He destroyed all of Katarr, which happens to be the colony world Visas was _on_. Why would he care about a single miraluka?"

_"Well then maybe he wants her because he wanted to wrap up unfinished business? Look, I can't tell you how a Sith's mind works. They're sick, twisted monsters. Maybe they want virgin blood. Who knows? But the point is, you have four after you. You need to get lost somewhere so that this is not a four-way chase."_

'Bait?'

"No," Visas and Mical both said emphatically, while Bastila shook her head.

_"Too dangerous. I need them to lose your scent."_

"We can go to Nar Shaddaa," Atton called from behind them. He did not hear the whole conversation, but he derived enough from his bond with Svana that he knew the gist of the situation. "It's a good place to get lost in."

"It's also one of the planets where there was a surge in the Force," Mical reminded Svana. "We were researching this on Coruscant. I have not found much before we had to leave."

_"I also need to lose the other two," _Bastila sighed, _"But I cannot go to Nar Shaddaa. I don't know what's a good place to go, though. I'll figure it out. We need to go to a place where we can get lost and where we wouldn't mind if Nihilus consumes the planet again. Possibly Ilum. There's no sentient life there, and the Sith care too much for the crystals to destroy it. The place is thick with the Force, and by now the Jedi Masters would have left. The Force might cloud the Sith's senses, and even if they destroy the place…well, I doubt even Nihilus could destroy Ilum."_

'Sound good.'

"I'll plot the coordinates," Atton left.

_"Alright, you lose Revan and Malak, I lose Sion and Nihilus; that is our primary agenda right now, losing our respective Sith Lords. Once done, we'll see if it's safe to regroup. Be careful, and may the Force be with you."  
><em>

'Likewise,' Svana gestured, before the connection closed.


	18. Chapter 16

The Silent Maiden

Chapter 16

The things one does for one's wife.

Visas was distraught. Visas was upset. Visas this, Visas that, and Svana, with a heart as soft as dough, opted to stay with her in the night, leaving Atton to bunk with the _brat_. At least, Svana pointed out, he was not bunking with Kreia, who creeped the living wits out of him. Atton hated to admit it, but he would take Blondie over the old hag any day.

They made for quite a bunch. They all hated each other, and were united primarily due to their affection for his wife—though in Kreia's case, Atton was not entirely sure. He and the blonde had a conversation about her, of all things, when Svana was with Visas during the ship's night cycle.

"Svana got some information out of her, at least," He told Atton as they lied on their respective cots, "Kreia is very tightlipped, but Svana thinks she might have been a Sith Lord, once. She mentioned being betrayed by two students."

"Could have just been a Jedi schutta. The Jedi do occasionally betray each other."

The blonde did not deny this. "Svana had the distinct feeling she was a Sith, however."

"Then what in the galaxy are we allowing her here for? Toss her out the airlock."

"We cannot. She somehow bonded with Svana. Hurting her might hurt Svana too."

_Sith._

"How the blazes did _she _bond with my wife?"

"I don't know. Svana doesn't know either. She claims Kreia said she didn't know, and she believes her."

_Svana's too trusting._

"One thing's for certain—we need her. Svana's pretty sure of that. How we need her, can't really say. But Visas and I agreed that we can't really trust her, so we have to figure out how to protect Svana considering we can't kick Kreia out."

Atton grumbled to himself, but this was one case where he had to agree with the blonde. They needed to work together. Since Kreia was bonded, inconveniently, to Svana, Svana could not take the initiative without the old woman knowing. He chewed on his lip, thinking. The woman was blind, but she had the Force, and apparently very powerful in it. They had to use something that did not involve the Force.

"We need a droid," He said.

"A what?" The idiot kid asked.

"A droid, you moron. We need to get a droid."

At least the boy understood after several seconds.

"Where should we get a droid?"

"I don't know!" _Should have gotten one from the stupid droid factory._ "Maybe Nar Shaddaa has some on sell. They have vendors, after all."

"That's a good idea," The blonde said diplomatically, which Atton dismissed with a huff. _Force, _he hated the guy.

He dreamed about the old hag, but while he remembered nothing from the dream, when he woke he _did _remember something Shan had said.

"She said to beware of a woman named 'Kreia'," He said to the boy, "Because she might have something to do with Darth Traya. Sith, we're in deep banthaspit."

They went to Visas, because Svana certainly could not be reminded of this as long as every thought that went through her head might slip and pass along to the very person they were threatened by.

"You are telling me," The miraluka exclaimed while Svana went to the refresher, "That we might have a _Sith _on board, who is _bonded _with Svana?"

"Yeah."

Visas looked at the corridor. Atton expected her to voice skepticism, but he forgot that she was Force-sensitive and could tell when he was telling the truth. She uttered something that was probably uncouth, which Atton thought was appropriate.

"We're going to have to take turns watching that woman."

"We need to find out what her true motives are. Why is she joining us? What does she hope to gain?"

"The kid was supposedly a Republic investigator," Atton sneered, "_Maybe _he can be of use?"

"The good news is, as long as we are in hyperspace, I doubt she would do anything. She needs us to pilot this ship."

"So we have until Nar Shaddaa to think of a plan."

Svana, strangely enough, seemed largely unworried about being bonded with someone who might have been a Sith.

'_You _were a Sith assassin, and I'm married to you,' She pointed out. Atton had to admit that this was logical, but he doubted Kreia loved her as much as he did. _Or, you know, love her at all._

It was fine, though. Svana might not be worried, but her concern at the moment was probably the least useful. There was not much she could do herself to ward off Kreia anyway, and it was up to the other three, Atton, Visas, and the kid, to figure something out. By the time they did reach Nar Shaddaa, they had something of a plan.

The moon was a huge dump, as far as Atton was concerned. After tasting the idyllic life of Bandomeer and seeing Coruscant, not to mention all the other places he had been to as Jaq, this place really was a mess.

_The bitterness in this place crushes my chest,_ His wife lamented in his mind, _What peace is there to be found here? Even the good and virtuous bite like the winds of Hoth. They retreat to what shelters they can and are forced to keep their kindness for their own._

"This moon," Kreia murmured, "It teams with life. It is difficult to center oneself."

Visas was similarly shaken. "I have learned of such places," She said to Svana, "But never did I understand, until now. So alive with the Force, and yet so dead to it. The contrast is like a blade. It is as if every one of them is hanging on a ledge surrounding a bottomless pit."

"Funny," Atton said snarkily as he turned the ship over toward the landing pad, "Considering that this here? Miles up, sweetheart. You walk over that ledge and you might as well be falling into a bottomless pit."

They landed with no trouble, but upon descending down the ramp, they found an unwelcome surprise.

"You! You there!"

Atton turned to see a pale figure flying toward them. It was a toydarian.

"What's with you, letting that piece of junk sink its struts into my landing pad?"

Atton was prepared for what might be a difficult confrontation, but strangely, the blonde stepped in front of him before the rest could react.

"Apologies, sir, need to communicate with one of the locals," He said to seemingly no one, while whipping out his badge and a video recorder. "This the toydarian we're looking for?"

"Eh?" The alien hovered back, "Wh-what, no trouble, I mean—"

"Visas, would you, please?"

The miraluka, who was closest, grabbed the toydarian before he could back further.

"How long, sir?" The blonde asked, still pretending he was talking to his superior through an earpiece.

"Ah, looook, see, I don't want no trouble, you look like decent folk, yes? I let you dock here for you to do your business, it looks important, hehe—"

"What are you afraid of, my friend?" The kid continued looking through the camera, "Who said you were in trouble? Did I say you were in trouble?"

Svana, to Atton's chagrin, looked impressed.

"You're only in trouble if you've caused trouble. Have you caused trouble?"

"Ahhhhh, no sir! No trouble at all!"

"Sir?" The boy lifted a hand to his ear, and then nodded at Visas. "He's clear. For now, anyway."

She released the toydarian.

"Don't think that you're free to start now," Mical warned the nervous alien, "If I catch a _whiff _of any mischief about, my colleagues will be here, and they're not as nice as I am. I know what this moon's about. And don't think switching your hat's going to hide you from us."

"Ehehehe, ehehe, uh, thank you, sir, pleasure doing business with you, uh—"

They went past the toydarian.

_Nice job!_ Svana was grinning. _Where'd you learn to do that?_

"I'm a Republic investigator," The boy reminded her, beaming as if she had given him the world.

"Not that this means much, based on what _I've _seen of Republic investigators."

Svana slapped Atton on the arm for that.

"And good job, Visas," The kid said to the miraluka, "You really acted the part of the stern enforcer."

"He was a lying coward," Visas sniffed, "I would have taught him a better lesson, so he would not try this trick with others…but perhaps on this moon, that has no purpose."

Svana reached out and hooked Visas's arm through hers. _You and Mical can be partners after this. What do you think, Mical?_

The boy smiled. "Perhaps not. It gets more dangerous than this."

_True,_ Svana acceded.

"Once we are done congratulating ourselves," Kreia broke in, "We should move away from the landing pad. There are those who have an eye for those who dawdle."

* * *

><p>"We've been tracking them, even though we don't have the resources to hunt them down," The boy told Svana, "One of the sector bosses is Nar Shaddaa, which is no surprise."<p>

'If Exchange know Republic Investigator is here, will hunt you,' Svana gestured, one hand holding her healing wound.

"Light-colored human male traveling with other humans and…well, I guess you do not often find miralukas around here."

_We can just give her a visor, _Svana turned to Visas, _What do you think? Your veil is a little telling. Maybe for the sake of safety, you can leave it off for now and wear a hood instead._

"I can adapt," Visas replied, though she was clearly not happy about it.

This was done quickly, since Visas had no concern for the quality of the visor. Without the veil, her hair was past her shoulders and a dark brown. Svana braided it so that it would not fly into her face.

_What a pretty girl, _ She kept thinking, _Always knew you were a pretty girl. Sorry if this is freaking you out. I can't get over how you look without your veil._

"No harm done," Visas smiled. "You are a sister to me." Then, she added, "I find this endearing."

Once that was done, they continued on their way through the landing pads.

The Exchange's presence was prominent on Nar Shaddaa, but it seemed to be subdued and calm for now. They passed no gangs, saw no incidents, and though miserable, everyone seemed to be behaving themselves. There was a mess of graffiti on walls, further stained on the bottom with vomit and urine. Svana paid no attention to these, and Atton had to remind himself that his innocent-looking wife was not as naïve as she seemed.

Upon arriving in the quad, with the many shelters and miserable families living within, Atton stopped Svana.

"We were thinking we could get a droid, and some supplies."

She nodded. 'We?' She gestured wryly.

Atton glared. "Yeah. We. The kid was in on it too, alright? We can take a look around, see if there are any wares."

_And **I **was left out of the discussion **why**?_

_Oops. _

Svana rolled her eyes. Kreia let out a sound that was suspiciously like a snort of amusement, which was somehow more creepy than when she was simply being stern and Sith-like.

"There are some vendors over there," The kid pointed, ignoring Svana's exasperation. "We can split up and meet back at the center."

Atton looked. The vendors were all within seeing distance of each other, so this was acceptable. He could get his wife some proper armor, perhaps. Atton still possessed bargaining skills, even if it had been a while since he had used them. Some blaster upgrades, shield generators, med pacs…though that, as agreed prior, was Blondie's area.

Kreia was not interested in merchandise, but she did follow along silently without much comment. It was difficult to say whether she was even paying attention to what the rest of them were doing. Svana did not seem to mind her presence, and Atton chose to believe that for now, at least, the old hag was no threat to them. Indeed, on a moon like Nar Shaddaa, there was safety in numbers, and no matter how fancy a Sith lord Kreia might be, he doubted she would appreciate having to tackle this whole moon by herself, considering they were the only ones who could pilot the ship and fly her off.

_Though she could just mind-trick someone else…_Atton squashed the thought before it could truly alarm him. For now, at least, paranoia would not work in his favor. Best bring out a little bit of Jaq, just enough to heighten the senses and be alerted at the slightest hint of trouble. Svana was to be protected at all costs.

Svana went to check on a grocery stand while Atton looked at a selection of T3's. They all looked like they would break at any moment, and the cost of repairing them might be more than they were worth.

_"Mmmmmm…" _A woman hummed, and he heard, in twi'leki, _"A handsome stranger visits our land." _Warm, soft fingers trailed up his torso. _"What is your name, beautiful?"_

_Alright, this could be one of two things. Either she is actually a prostitute and for some reason soliciting in this open area instead of somewhere more seedy…well I guess there's not much of a variance around here but still, **here? **Or she is some bounty hunter or assassin posing as a prostitute…though why is she after me and not the_ _kid? _His mind flashed back to Jossa, and it occurred to him that this woman might be here for _him._

In a flash, he had her pinned to the ground, wrists crossed at her back.

"Who are you?" He demanded.

Startled by his quick reflexes, it took her a moment to gather her wits. _"N-no one, good sir. Just someone looking for a friend—"_

"Yeah right. Do I look like I was born yesterday?"

_"Please…I mean no harm—"_

"Yeah, you know what the motto is back where I come from? You're not in trouble unless you cause trouble. You're trying to cause some trouble there, honey."

_Break her neck, _Jaq whispered. _Twist it, now!_

_Atton._ Svana approached, looking worried. The wind blew, and her hair tumbled loose, trailing like some mystic princess from the mountains. The moon itself seemed to hold its breath in wonder.

Atton looked at his wife for a moment, before releasing the twi'lek. Svana came near, but the woman sprang to her feet without any help and ran for it before Atton could try to stop her.

"Ha!" Exclaimed a human male, "Good riddance, that. Filled with disease at this point. Good on ye, mate!"

"Ugh!" Atton remarked, wiping at the place on his torso where her fingers had touched, suddenly feeling very gross.

Svana watched the twi'lek leave with a strange twist on her lips. She did not seem overly upset, just a little sympathetic. Squeezing his arm in reassurance, she stepped back to the grocery stand.

"Uh," Said the merchant selling the droids, "Wh-which one would you like again, sir?"

"Ugh," Atton said again, "All of these are no better than trash compactors." He walked away to see if the others were having any better luck.

* * *

><p>Svana did not have a lot of stamina, since most of her energy was spent recovering from her wound. It was not long before they needed to find somewhere she could sit down and rest. Not wanting to waste time, the kid offered to go purchase additional supplies. Svana sent an unhappy Visas with him. Kreia chose to remain with the Rands, something that Atton was unhappy about, but killing a Sith could not be harder than killing a Jedi. It was just different. He could protect Svana from an old lady.<p>

They found a bench overlooking the city, watching the skyways zip with multiple freighters and speeders. Kreia still remained silent, and Svana was content to simply stare at the scene ahead. Atton was left thinking about how his wife looked when he was dealing with the twi'lek.

Did anyone else notice? Was it love tinting his perception of her? She looked as beautiful and as radiant as he had always seen her, but not only that, it seemed like everyone had seen her, even though she spoke in his head and had approached to the limit of a spectator's distance, the way any other spectator would. For some reason, that scene filled him with unease. They had come here to disappear. They did not come here to be noticed. And yet, despite the fact that the planet was filled with billions of suffering Force-presences, he had the odd feeling that Svana had unwittingly emitted a beacon.

About an hour later, the blonde and his blind sidekick came back.

"We should probably get these back to the ship," Said the kid, "And then the armor is across over there," He gestured to a distant building, "We can check it out and pick for ourselves, but I think Ky—" He sighed, "I need to get that right. I think Svana should stay on the ship, since she has exerted more than I would recommend for the day."

'I fine,' She signed.

"No, for once the brat is right. I can stay with you on the ship if anything happens."

"Actually, Atton, I was hoping you can do something."

Atton glared. "What is it, kid?"

The blonde's next words sent a chill through him. "Visas and I overheard some people talking about someone named the 'Silent Maiden'. She sounds like someone they were deeply interested in. They were saying that she might be human, or a diathim, or some merge of the two, but for some reason she's notoriously difficult to track. I was thinking that perhaps you might be able to find her."

"Oh I can find her alright," Atton said with clenched teeth. "I'm more concerned about who's talking about her. Did you catch who it was?" Next to him, Svana was very still.

"…Well, it happened several times while we were shopping, her title came up a few times among the refugees…Atton, is something wrong?"

Atton was covering Svana's nose and mouth. "This is no place to discuss this. Let's get my wife back to the ship."


	19. Chapter 17

The Silent Maiden

Chapter 17

_Silent Maiden._

Atton did all of the explaining, while Svana avoided Mical's gaze. She did not want him to hear about the lonely years of exile. That time had been dark and bleak, filled with a kind of pain she could not describe. She had grown accustomed to being Svana Rand, not some nameless woman defined only by her crushing pain.

"Is this necessarily something we should worry about?" Visas asked. "I see no reason why people would not be talking about her, if she was so prominent."

"Someone recognized her," Her husband pointed out. "And on a place like Nar Shaddaa, that's going to reach the Exchange. For the Exchange, people like Svana are 'trouble', assuming, anyway, that the person who recognized her in the first place isn't already after her. She's not prominent on _Nar Shaddaa_."

"So what should we do?"

They looked at her. Svana rubbed her forehead.

'We deal with what comes,' She signed after a moment. 'No reason worry now.'

"Still, I think Svana should stay on the ship."

"She's here to lie low. That means she shouldn't be on the landing pads. Even if they don't expect her here, this is the first place they'll search to find out where she might have gone."

'I be fine," Svana waved her hand. 'If will of the Force, so be. No point worry. This small matter. Sith more important."

"I concur," Kreia nodded. "Neither the Exchange nor their bounty hunters are a major concern of ours. We will proceed to arm ourselves and equip ourselves with proper supplies and weapons and deal with them as the situation demands."

There was a brief silence, before Mical cleared his throat. "I, ahem, we'll go purchase more supplies and come back. Maybe we can find out more information."

Visas was facing Kreia. "No. I sense that to go now, as we are, will be unwise. We have food, we have some supplies, our stay will be long as it is. The hour grows late on Nar Shaddaa. Let us rest for tonight."

'No.' Svana shook her head, standing. 'I need air.'

"Nar Shaddaa's not really a good place for an evening stroll, love," Atton pointed out.

Svana shook her head. 'Restless, no good place meditate on this moon. Best go out, see, listen, hear.'

For a moment, everyone was silent.

"Alright," Atton relented, sensing her unease, "We'll stick together and try to be productive while we're at it, yeah?"

He gave her a one-armed hug, which she returned gratefully.

* * *

><p>Nar Shaddaa had a surprising amount of good armor, but these were tucked away for high, high prices. Atton took charge of bargaining, but soon ran into some competition.<p>

"How old do you think she is?" Mical asked, looking at the redheaded girl who wanted the same set of gauntlets.

'Eighteen, tops,' Svana gestured. Said girl looked more mature, but there was that energy of youth about her that suggested she was younger than she looked.

"Watch as Rand is outdone by that one," Visas sniffed.

"He won't," Mical replied. "Girl is clearly banking on him having all the normal vulnerabilities of a man."

She was wearing a very tight outfit that left nothing to the imagination, something that looked as uncomfortable as it was impractical. Her hair was short, her front bangs tied out of the way with a headband, and she had a pack around her waist that looked clunky and heavy.

"Not going to help your husband?" Visas elbowed Svana.

'From a child? I more likely help girl.'

"True."

Mical gave her an irritated look, though. Eighteen was older than he was.

Kreia, disinterested, stood off to the side to regard the buildings opposite the landing pads. Svana glanced at her, and then glanced back at the girl.

The girl turned. Green eyes flashed toward her.

* * *

><p><em>"General! Enemy ships are going into the Malaxi formation!"<br>_

_Kdan leaned over the dashboard. "All hands, assemble to mirror tunnel."_

_"Aye-aye, General!"_

_"Yes, ma'am!"_

_She turned around to look at Jerich's solemn green eyes. "Prepare my ship."_

_His brow furrowed. "Ma'am—"_

_"No time. We need to infiltrate the ranks and take out the core unit."_

_His eyes flashed in defiance. "The men can handle it. They've been trained."_

_"So was I. Stand down, soldier."_

_He flung his arm out. "No. The men need you **here**."_

_Kdan stared at him evenly. "The Jedi do not stand back while the others run the front lines."_

_He glared back. "The Jedi's soldiers do not stand back while their leader flies to her death."_

_A loud boom interrupted them, and bright blue light flashed from behind her. Kdan whirled around in shock, but was blinded by the blaze. She felt the sharp tug of many souls ripping from her. Jerich's fingers steadied her elbows._

_"Report!"_

_"Enemy fired the cannon!"_

_"Cooldown time is twenty minutes," Kdan quickly calculated. She turned, but Jerich's hand hooked around her elbow. She glared back. "Let go, **now**."_

_His face was a mask, eyes almost glowing. "No."_

_She twisted out of his grip with ease. If he would not help her save time to prepare the ship, she would just have to make do without him. "T3H5, with me!"_

_The droid beeped, and she ran out without a backward glance._

* * *

><p>"Exile."<p>

Svana blinked back to the present. The redheaded girl was staring at her, as if seeing a ghost. Ironic, given what Svana was feeling. Kreia was beside her, presence at once secure yet ominous.

"What do you see, Exile?" The old woman asked.

Svana went forward._ Destiny, _she replied.

* * *

><p>The girl watched her warily as she approached. Atton stepped back, sensing something was afoot. Svana straightened her back as she neared, letting her hood fall from her head. It was difficult to sense the girl amidst the numerous other souls, but she felt the Force ripple about them, and saw the girl felt it too.<p>

"You," Said the girl, eying her up and down, "What's a pretty thing like you doing in this dump?"

Svana paused as she tried to gather her voice, but succumbed to gesture, 'Do you know Jerich?'

"…What's that?" The girl blinked. "You deaf, or something?"

"It's called sign language, kid. Ever heard of it?" Atton sneered.

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean I _know _it. Look, I'd love to chat, but I really need to get going."

_Do you really?_

"Do you really?" Visas echoed, stepping forward as Svana's voice.

The girl started, looking at the miraluka and then squinting, trying to make out her visor. She then looked at Svana.

"Look, I've kicked the butts of bigger gangs than you, honey. Right now, I don't have the time for this."

"Do you know Jerich?" Visas asked Svana's earlier question.

The girl blinked. "Who now?"

"Jerich Dehan," Svana said through Visas. "A soldier during the Mandalorian Wars. He lost his sister, Yeda, to the Mandalorians."

The girl was obviously uncertain, but her tones feigned a great deal of confidence. "Look, I don't know any Jerich Dehan or Yeda or what's it." She glared at Visas. "You've obviously got the wrong person."

Visas turned her face toward Svana. Atton was quickly pulling up her hood.

"Wait a second," The girl said lowly, "You're the Silent Maiden, aren't you?"

Svana shut her eyes to stem the ache that spread at the name.

Atton's hands were on her shoulders. "Alright, babe. Come on, we're out of here."

"Hey!" The vendor yelled, "Aren't either of you buying?"

"Ruined the mood, pal!" Her husband called back, steering her away. Svana considered resisting, but then relented. _She is hooked, _she knew. The girl will follow.

* * *

><p>Out of all of them, Atton was the least trained in the Force. Svana was beginning to understand just how insecure and awkward her husband must be feeling, surrounded by the Jedi Exile, a Jedi disciple, a miraluka, and a powerful old Force user, all of whom knew more about what just happened than he did. She sent her love to him, which he reciprocated only half-heartedly; he was too distracted with getting her back to the ship, out of the eyes of others.<p>

"You do realize she's not the only one following us," Mical said uncertainly.

"We will deal with the others as they come," Said Kreia. "What matters now is directing this new ally."

"She's an eighteen-year-old _girl!_" Visas gasped.

"I'm seventeen!"

Visas gaped. "_You're _seventeen?!"

_Oh Force. _

"The Jedi train their padawans to die for them at about the same age," Atton said dryly.

_The Republic too, _Svana thought. _War spares no one. Grow fast or die._

"True enough," Mical replied, "But the Exile accomplished far more at her age."

Svana had abandoned Revan at this age. She had fought two long years of war. Some might say she had seen more than many had in their entire lifetimes.

"Enough of this foolishness," Kreia snapped. "We best get to the ship before we encounter trouble."

She led the way, worn robes flapping with her brisk gait. Svana drew up her will to follow, pressing on the wound protectively.

"Seriously," Atton whispered in her ear, "We are _not _bringing _her _with us."

_Yes we are._

"Why? What's so special about her?"

Svana remembered, and with that, so did everyone else.

Jerich was a proper soldier, many years older than Kdan. He had emerged in one of the squads quite unassumingly, and Kdan had paid him as much attention as anyone else. He had been a harder man to whittle, for he was close-lipped about his past, but eventually she had learned that he had a younger sister who had been violated and killed by the Mandalorians.

He was a fine-looking man, a hair of dark brown and eyes that flickered green to hazel depending on his mood. Kdan often mused that he would make a fine husband for someone, but had never thought of herself as that candidate. The lines were sharply drawn, both by her personal oath and by the walls between ranks. She was his superior, and she was young, enough that many of the times she looked upon these mature, tall, looming men and felt herself cowed, like a child. A confident front pulled her through many of the trials, but inside she had always thought herself their junior. She said nothing that might suggest her immaturity, listened more than spoke, and attributed her ignorance more to her sheltered life at the Dantooine Enclave than to her youth. This seemed to work, for the men never questioned her, and they marched to their deaths at her word without looking back. Jerich marched along with the rest, and mingled among the bunks, just one name among many whose lives were in her hands.

She did not notice the first time he brought her tea or steered her exhausted figure away to go to bed. She did not notice the second time either. It was only after a completely horrifying episode that she did notice he seemed to make a point of always being there.

They were dispatched on a high stress mission that took two weeks, after about two weeks of recuperation. Kdan had been up for nights, going over plans with her advisors, and then watching the plans be executed. She was so exhausted that all of her mental energies were directed at the task at hand. Jerich had suddenly come up behind her and wrapped a cloak around her.

_"General, ma'am, you need to go get changed."_

_"What?"_

_"Please, General. The tent is this way."_

She had been irritated at first, but he was insistent, and she sensed a real urgency about him. She complied. She went to her tent, unraveled his cloak, and discovered a blooming red along the inner thighs of her trousers. The stress of war had halted the process, but two weeks of recuperation had been enough to get a cycle started.

As soon as she realized what had happened, she felt it. Agony, within her pelvis, like her innards were being squeezed like a vice, and despite her years of training at the enclave, of long ago mastering the skill to siphon pain off into the Force, the blinding horror that perhaps _every soldier there saw this_, that she had made a fool of herself in front of _everyone_, scattered her focus, and she could not suppress her wailing scream as she collapsed onto the floor of the tent.

Jerich had grown up with a sister, and most of the men had grown up with mothers, but none of them had ever made a study of this trial specific only to women. He had no idea that the first day should not be this severe, should not be this copious or painful, so he rushed in, covering her when he realized she was immobilized with pain, shouting at her to tell him what was wrong, what hurt, what happened, and then he went out to call for a medic, the General is sick, she needed a medic _now_.

They gave her a sedating analgesic that knocked her out. She woke hearing that the mission went as planned and there were no casualties, but still she thought she might die of shame. Normal girls might have their mothers, normal girls would never have to leave whole armies of men, and though Kdan was a Jedi, in this matter she was still as normal as any girl, who needed a mother but had none.

Besides the medic, only Jerich saw her weep in her sickbed. He kept the other men away, going as far as to threaten them, and things might have escalated further, but Alek arrived.

It was not something Kdan would have confided in Alek, but Jerich must have believed that all Jedi were above such petty things, and told him the morbid truth of what had happened. The knight spared her the agony of having to tolerate his visit. Instead, he sent her a female technician to be her nurse. Through this technician, Kdan learned that Jerich had caught her in time, that no one else saw, and besides the medic and Alek, no one was the wiser. When she finally recovered enough from her anemia and fever to face her men again, it was Jerich who saluted her first, a whole second before the other clueless men did, and what fear she had eased when confronted with the evidence that her authority was intact, that her _dignity _was intact, and she owed it all to Jerich…and perhaps Alek who, apparently even when turned, never betrayed this dreadful secret.

Jerich was now dead, lying in the dust with all the men she had sent to Malachor. The girl on Nar Shaddaa had Jerich's eyes.

Atton's arms hugged close around her, shaking. Mical's eyes were wide and bright, stricken by the knowledge that Kdan once nearly died because of something confined to her female form. Visas' lips parted in a gape. Svana felt instantly ashamed.

"Dear Force," Her husband whispered, a sob lacing his breath, and he kissed her fervently on the temple. "Force, you were just fourteen."

Fourteen was when Jerich's sister, Yeda, died.

Kreia turned, face stern, but willing to wait until Svana was ready to keep moving.

_It is all in the past now, except for this,_ She told the others, feeling a deep heat rush to her face and neck. She was a woman now, though, no longer a child. Her back remained straight and she eyed each of them squarely.  
>Atton seemed to be overpowered by the vision of her as a young girl, though. "Come, sweetheart," He tucked her close, as if hiding her from the memories. "Let us get you inside."<p>

* * *

><p>"Why the <em>Sith <em>did Revan let someone like _you _to lead people into war?"

_Atton…_

He was lying next to her on her bunk while Visas was preparing food with Mical. Svana knew he was thinking of all the Jedi women he had killed, of the padawans he had tortured. Padawans who had been just like her, innocent and young and in need of parents to care for them.

"They're supposed to _protect _that kind of innocence. Not…not _use _it."

_There were many other innocent lives that needed to be considered. Besides, no one could have anticipated that anything like that would happen. Other Jedi women have gone to war._

"Not _girls._"

Svana was quiet. _Girls too,_ She admitted. _Young, children, like I was. Many more suffered fates worse than mine. I lived through that ordeal. It was traumatic, true, but ultimately I was able to move past it. I have seen the eyes of those who never do._

Atton grasped her hand. "What exactly happened?"

_Stress. Stress of such intolerable levels, my body…freaked out, I suppose. It tried to drain the stress away, and just kept draining, draining, draining._

"Did it ever happen again?"

_No. Jerich became…my personal caretaker, of sorts. I was much more careful, but when things got bad…he always pulled me aside. Sometimes he was even insubordinate._

She missed Jerich. She missed everyone, terribly. Jerich had not been the only one who had been like a brother to her.

"He must have loved you," Atton said, strangely without jealousy.

_…I think they all did. I let them down._

"No," His arms circled her waist. "_Revan _let them down, remember?"

She sniffled._ If I had been wiser—_

"Svana, you are not perfect, but no one expects you to be. The _Force _does not expect you to be, or else why would you be born with what you have?"

She nodded, throat tight.

There was a knock before the doors slid open. Visas poked her head in, still wearing the visor.

"Svana!" She exclaimed in a hushed voice, "That girl!"

* * *

><p>The hour was late at this point, and the girl stood a few feet from the lowered ramp, looking strangely bereft. Svana went down in the casual indoor clothes she had changed into, soft like sleepwear but not quite as formless. The young woman regarded her with baffled astonishment, before her countenance morphed into that of defiance.<p>

"My name is Mira," She said testily. "Jerich Dehan was my cousin."

Svana regarded her, Visas shadowing her closely.

"Would you like to come in?" Visas asked for her.

Mira's eyebrows dipped in a scowl. "I'm not _stupid_, you know."

"Then why are you here?"

Mira glared at Visas. "I'm talking to _her_ you know."

Svana gestured as Visas spoke. "I am her voice for now."

Mira blinked. "What the _Sith _is this?"

Visas stepped forward, this time speaking her own words. "The Silent Maiden has no voice. I serve as her vessel."

"What kind of mystical garbage is this?"

Svana stepped forward as well, going down the ramp. Mira seemed to want to retreat, but held herself in check.

"This is no place to talk," Visas pointed out.

Svana reached out with her hands toward Mira. A silent request to be trusted.

Mira glanced between the two of them warily, sense warring with common sense, fear warring with hope.

She took Svana's hand.

* * *

><p>"Strange group you got here," Mira tried to be glib to hide how nervous she really was. "Crummy ship too. What's a crowd like you doing on Nar Shaddaa?"<p>

Svana started with a direct question.

"Have you heard of the Sith?" Visas asked.

"Yeah? What about them?"

Svana then continued with a vaguer response. "They're after something, and we don't want them to have it."

Mira paused. "That something is on Nar Shaddaa?"

Svana gestured at Visas to introduce herself. Atton had come out of the bunks, arms folded over his chest. Mical had also emerged, fair face bright and innocent. Only Kreia kept to her chamber. Svana decided that Mira did not need to meet her just yet.

"I am Visas Marr. This is Mical, Atton Rand. She," Visas gestured, "Is Svana Rand."

Mira looked her up and down. "Not much of a maiden _now_, I guess. Maybe you should change your title to the 'Silent Bride'."

Svana smiled, and signed for Visas to state, 'I did not give myself any of my titles'."

"…You have more than one?"

"Don't you?"

The girl blinked. "Well, how do you know Jerich or his sister?"

'I no know his sister,' Svana signed, as Visas spoke her thoughts. 'Jerich served with me in war. He died when Mandalorians defeated.'

"Jerich was a _soldier_?" Mira's eyes were bright with interest.

"One of the finest."

"So, let me get this straight. You wanted me here because you once knew my cousin, and what, you just wanted to say hello?"

_I was his General,_ Svana replied.

She scoffed. "No way. No _way_. _You_? Please, _I _can be young. A Republic General can't be that young. What were you, twelve?"

_I was a fourteen-year-old Jedi._

At this, Mira blanched. "Prove it."

Svana's Force skills were rusty. Visas' was not.

"You were a slave," The miraluka said with great sadness, "You were captured by the Mandalorians. You were their slave, at first, but then they accepted you, and you joined their squad. Malachor V tore you from your new family, and you came to Nar Shaddaa, where you took up bounty hunting to survive."

"Alright, stop," Mira said sharply, "You…you could have researched that."

"Your mother gave you a pendant," Visas went on, bringing her incredible Force powers to bear. "You lost it, the day the Mandalorians destroyed your home."

Mira froze, face pale.

Svana, heart aching, reached out and took Mira by the hands.

"I am sorry," Visas murmured, before echoing Svana's thoughts, "We all know what it is to lose a family."

"They say they were all killed. Some moon was attacked, or something," The young woman murmured, allowing Svana to hold on to her, "You're like, the last Jedi left."

"There are others, but many have perished on Katarr."

It was hard to think about, still. Svana looked down.

"I'm sorry," Mira said softly, "That…that must be hard."

Svana smiled a little. _You have your cousin's heart._

Before Visas could verbalize her thought, Mira suddenly jerked her hands back.

"Did you just talk in my head?"

Svana gave her a blank stare. After a moment, she reached out. A thread in the Force led her to a new presence, one sensitive, but currently not listening, to it. When the thread was touched, Mira jerked.

_Was Jerich Force-sensitive too?_

"Force-sensitive? What do you mean too?" Mira demanded.

Svana stared for a moment, head silent of thought, before telling her, _You are a Force-sensitive. We have somehow established a bond. I do not know how it happened._

The girl stared back, speechless.

"I know how it happened," Visas replied. "It was how you established a bond with me, and perhaps with everyone else. You had the desire to befriend us. We had the desire to befriend you."

Mira gaped, but was unable to verbalize any disagreement.

_I am sorry,_ Svana told her, equally confused and astonished.

"Is there any way to undo this?" Mira demanded. "You can undo it, right?"

"It would be very painful, for both of you."

"What, am I now _enslaved _to this schutta?"

The commotion was drawing the attention of the others on the ship. Mira was backing away as Atton emerged, followed by Mical. Kreia appeared last, silently observing the scene.

_You hear all of my mind. I do not hear yours. _Svana looked at her husband, anxious. _I would say that I am the slave._

"This is insane. You're all insane," Mira spat, whirling around. "I'm leaving."

* * *

><p><em>"General, I must protest," Jerich kept his eyes straight ahead, "I do not think this is a wise course of action."<br>_

_"Your thoughts are duly noted, soldier."_

_"General—"_

_"No." _Kdan turned away. _"I'm leaving."_

* * *

><p>Svana reoriented herself in time to see Mira frozen before her, hand on the ridge of the wall. After a moment, the huntress turned around.<p>

"Was that…" Her eyes searched, growing pale with anxiety and longing, "Was that my cousin?"

More shadows of memories brushed past. Svana struggled not to focus on them, to keep her mind on the present.

"Yeah, that's your cousin alright, not that you're much like him," Atton came forward.

_Atton!_

"No. How can she be? She's just some dumb wannabe bounty hunter. Can't even tell the difference between friend and foe. Right now, you _want_ Svana as your friend. She's your only way off this dump, and if you ever want to amount to anything at all, you need her."

_Atton…this is not the way—_

"Unless you _want _to remain a scum forever, treating people like trash and killing them for money, or worse, taking them alive to whoever paid for that bounty so who knows what would happen to them."

Mira was very pale. "Let me off this ship."

_Go,_ Svana suddenly wanted to open the ramp herself. She could feel the young woman's distress. _You were never meant to be a captive, only a guest._

Visas opened the ramp.

Mira headed out without looking back.

* * *

><p>She could not sleep.<p>

She wondered if her thoughts could still be sensed despite a long distance. She hoped not. She had not meant to chain anyone to her.

Visas rolled over and slid a hand on her arm.

"Svana, there's nothing to feel guilty about." Her voice was quiet, despite the bunk doors being shut. "Really. When I first met you…I wanted nothing more than to be close to you. I had never been in the face of such…light. I knew, no matter what happened, that everything would turn out alright as long as you are still in the galaxy. Anyone with even a modicum of Force sense would see that. So should Mira."

Svana shifted so she could turn her body on its side. _When did this start happening?_

Visas did not reply.

_What if it negatively affects one of you?_

"It will not."

_How do you know?_

"Because all of us love you, and more, you love all of us." Visas took her hand. She wisely did not mention Atton. "No harm can come from a bond forged from that. Only its breaking."

Her conviction softened Svana's anxiety. The miraluka released her hand, and Svana shut her eyes to sleep.

* * *

><p><em>A small republic fleet circled in space. Darth Revan stood, watching the battle through the viewscreens. His mask was an impenetrable wall to his face. Svana felt a thrill of old, familiar awe. <em>

_Jedi had boarded the ship, masking their presences in the Force. Among them, Bastila had her lightsaber hilt at the ready. She said something to her earpiece, but her words were muffled._

**_Oh no…be careful,__ Bastila…_**

_The Jedi moved quickly. By the time Darth Revan sensed them, they had already assembled in the proper formations. Bastila burst in first, meeting Darth Revan with her lightsaber. The others followed suit, but Revan used his considerable skills to knock all of them flat.  
><em>

_"Knight Shan…your skills were never with the blade."_

_Bastila did not respond. She was fighting for her life. Revan had always been a superb duelist, and he had only grown stronger since his days with the Jedi. They clashed in blazes of light, bright flashes blinding, and sparks flew from the consoles as metal glowed red from heat and holes ripped in the walls and ceiling._

_Bastila suddenly jumped back, summoning a Force barrier. An explosion tore through the bridge. Her barrier remained steady, but she could not see what was around her. The world seemed to spin, toppling over itself, large chunks of metal and debris flying and falling._

_At last, the dust filtered down. Bastila dropped her barrier. Other Jedi were already kneeling by the Sith Lord's body._

_"He's still alive!" One of them called out._

_"What should we do?"_

_They then all turned around at once, as something in the Force alerted them of a new change._

_Bastila frowned. "More Sith Lords. As if two weren't enough."_

_"Maybe they can go take care of Malak for us?"_

_"We better get out of here, **now**." _

_"But what about Revan?"_

_"We need to kill him!"_

_"We can't do that! That's execution!"_

_"Bring him!" Bastila called out, "He's wounded! We can't just leave him here!"_

_Two Jedi lifted the Sith's armored form while some grumbled, "We are taking a huge risk…"_

_"We can change our minds later. Let's go."_

_The room suddenly shuddered, nearly throwing everyone off-balance._

_"To the pods! Hurry!"_

* * *

><p>Svana woke.<p>

"Svana?" Visas asked, worried.

After a moment, she sat up. She needed to figure out what happened to Bastila.


End file.
